


We'll Make Chaos From Order

by tigerlo



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2017-12-31 20:52:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerlo/pseuds/tigerlo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is it then, Regina thinks. This is my penance. This is the final cost of my revenge. </p>
<p>Regina comes to realise the consequences of Greg's torture aren't as fleeting as everyone first imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've always though that chaos was such a fitting descriptive of Regina and Emma's relationship. This story is a bit of an exploration of Chaos theory, destiny and Swan Queen.
> 
> I don't own Once, if I did love triangles would be banned. Also only proof-read by my good self so any mistakes are my own.
> 
> This deviates from canon some time around 2x21.

Prologue

 

-

 

Chaos theory studies the behaviour of dynamic systems that are highly sensitive to initial conditions, an effect that is popularly referred to as the 'Butterfly Effect'. Small differences in initial conditions can yield widely divergent outcomes, rendering long-term predictions impossible.

 

This happens even though these systems are deterministic, meaning that their future behaviour is solely determined by their initial conditions.

 

Chaos theory says two things. First that complex systems or environments have an underlying order. Second, the reverse of that - that simple systems can produce complex behaviour.

 

- 

 

Our lives are made of choices. Some are simple, knee jerk choices, requiring little thought. Some are much more complex, have much larger consequences and require much more time to decide upon. Whether we realise it or not at the time, even the smallest of our actions can define our lives for decades.

 

The Greeks were one of the first races to believe in fatalism, the idea that our lives from start to finish are dictated by three different fates. This school of thought would let us believe that no matter what choices we make, the consequences have all been predetermined for us.

 

Making the right choice is something most people struggle with all their lives.

 

If you knew, they would say, if you knew now what your actions would do, the destruction they would cause, would you choose the same paths?

 

Oh my dear, Regina would reply simply, what makes you think we ever had a choice from the start?


	2. First Iteration

First Iteration

-

At the earliest stages, few clues to the underlying structure can be observed. With subsequent actions to the system, sudden changes may appear.

-

 

The first thing she remembers when she feels herself lifting out of sleep is pain, blinding, suffocating pain. It steals her breath for a minute and she bolts upright, clawing at her chest, willing her heart to slow.

 

It takes her a moment to realise where she is, her eyes desperately trying to adjust to the dark, searching for any signs of danger.

 

Gritting her teeth Regina sits up, eyes scanning the tiny, cluttered room before she realises where she is. Rolling her eyes, she lets out a huff as she falls back on the bed. That's right she thinks with a grimace, she owes her life to the Charming’s, again.

 

Very slowly she sits up again and tries testing her limbs for pain. Other than a few burns, a pounding headache and a rather unpleasant ache in her muscles, the physical damage is much less than she would have expected.

 

Rubbing her temples, she looks around the room again. Her whole body throbs with pent up magic, having tried so hard to use it while that cuff was on brought it all to the surface, where it stayed without any kind of release.

 

"There's a glass of water and some painkillers on the nightstand," comes a small voice from the other side of the room.

 

Not having realised there was anyone else in the room, at the sound of Emma's voice she almost jumps out of her skin.

 

"Shit, sorry" Emma says after hearing Regina start, “I didn't mean I give you a fright.”

 

"That's quite alright Miss Swan” she says, “I thought I was alone."

 

"Yeah, well you're in my bed so I had to sleep somewhere. Upstairs with my parents wasn't really an option, so here I am."

 

"How are you feeling?" the blonde asks hesitantly.

 

“About as well as you might expect given the circumstances.”

 

"How much do you remember?" Emma says after a long silence.

 

Everything "Enough."

 

"I trust you and your parents managed to find Mr Mendel and his accomplice?" Regina says looking at Emma expectantly.

 

"Yeah," Emma says with a grimace. "They're ah...taken care of."

 

"Good," Regina mutters as she runs her fingers through her hair.

 

"You're not disappointed?" Emma asks with a touch of hesitation

 

"Why on earth would I…oh you think I'd rather have done it myself? I see having an incredibly low opinion of my self restraint runs in the family,” she says sharply.

 

"Can you really blame me Regina?"

 

"No I guess not."

 

"Why did he want to hurt you?"

 

"Because I killed his father" Regina says without flinching.

 

"A long, long time ago when we first came to this world he and his father were camping in the area. When the curse established Storybrooke they were merely caught up in it all” she takes a deep breath before continuing.

 

"They should never have been able to get into the town but there wasn't a failsafe to exclude people already in the area, and they ended up within the town lines by accident."

 

"I don't expect you to understand but I had been lonely for a very long time and suddenly there was a child in my life." Emma watches her closely as she explains, the darkness of the room hiding the disgust on her face.

 

"I wanted him Miss Swan, more than I had wanted anything for a very long time. I tried to convince him to stay but I didn't understand at the time, I didn't understand his devotion to his father, I tried to obtain him and I failed. He escaped across the town lines before I could stop him."

 

"I managed to detain his father however, and I had him disposed of shortly thereafter."

 

"He must have spent most of his adult life trying to get back here, thinking he could save his father. I almost have to give him credit for getting to me in the first place."

 

The answer seems to placate Emma for a moment, but across the room Regina can see another question forming in her features.

 

"I saw what you looked like when they rescued you,” Emma says quietly. “I honestly thought you were going to die before they got you back here.”

 

“Why didn't you beg him Regina, why didn't you try to get him to stop."

 

"Tell me Miss Swan,” she says suddenly defensive. “What would you have done if you had known without a doubt that he was going to kill you, that nothing you could have said or done, that shouting every curse word in your stunningly limited vernacular at him, none of it would have made a difference?"

 

"Would you have begged him, would you have cried for mercy?"

 

"No" Emma admits quietly. "I wouldn't have given him the satisfaction of knowing how afraid I was."

 

“Exactly” Regina says breathing deeply.

 

“I learnt a long time ago the merits of staying strong in the face of pain. It is a mask my mother taught me well.”

 

She wants to leave this horrid apartment but she barely has the energy to sit upright so they sit in a quiet, uneasy sort of silence for a minute before a thought pops into Regina's head.

 

“Where is Henry's father? I had assumed he wouldn't let you out of his sight with his fiancée out of the picture.”

 

She sees a mask slide over Emma's face the second the words come out of her mouth.

 

“He's gone,” Emma says simply.

 

Regina snorts, “Well cowardice certainly runs in his blood. I can't say I'm overly surprised.”

 

“No,” Emma says, more firmly this time. “He's gone, dead gone. Tamara shot him right after she opened up a portal with one of your magic beans and he fell through.”

 

“Oh,” Regina says, caught off guard. “I'm sorry Miss Swan.”

 

“No you’re not, but thanks anyway I guess.” Emma says shrugging her shoulders.

 

No I'm not, Regina thinks, but that's one less problem I have to find a way to take care of.

 

“Where's Henry?” she says then, eyes searching the room for him.

 

“He's with Abigail. He wanted to be with you when you woke up but we thought it was better to have him stay somewhere else, you know just in case anything went wrong here.”

 

“And I am here why, Miss Swan?” She asks, suddenly realising the peculiarity of her current location.

 

“What else was I supposed to do Regina? Charming wanted to take you back home but Henry wasn't having it, the kid was almost in hysterics when he overheard us. Bringing you back there was the only way we could get him to go with Abigail and Fred.”

 

“You should try and get some sleep Regina, we've got a lot of explaining to do in the morning.”

 

Resigned to the fact that she cannot leave here by herself and she will not ask Emma for help, Regina settles down and tries to make herself comfortable in the bed so vastly different from her own. She rolls on her side and the oddly familiar scent of vanilla floats up from Emma's pillow.

 

Her mind is racing, pictures of Greg’s malicious face, the smell of stale salt and fear and electricity on her tongue, so she closes her eyes and thinks of white, and blank and nothing and allows sleep to overwhelm her.

 

-

 

The following weeks pass, surprisingly, without incident. Some semblance of order is restored in the town with the help of the Fairies and Gold. Any damaged infrastructure is repaired and as it did under her rule, life simply carries on.

 

The current branch of the white tree is reinstated as the de-facto monarchy and in a move that sets Regina's teeth on edge; Snow decides to hold court in the mayor’s office.

 

She is there when Emma tells Henry of the death of his father. Upon hearing the news in a move that surprises them all, he runs into the arms not of his blonde haired, infallible saviour but of Regina instead.

 

Apart from the fact that she hasn't yet been asked to take up office again (It's only a matter of time she thinks, it took her thirty years to have this town running like a textbook example of successful small town economics, she can't imagine silver spoon fed Snow White can have mastered it in a matter of a few weeks) everything seems to be falling into place much more efficiently than she thought possible.

 

It was idiocy she thinks later, that she thought for a moment she or the town had found equilibrium so quietly.

 

-

 

One quiet afternoon she finds herself at a loss, Henry won't be home from school for a while longer, so she decides to prepare dinner while she has the time. This time he has dictated the terms of his current living arrangements and to Regina that means everything.

 

Her attention is momentarily deflected when she sees a blue bird land on her apple tree, and a flash of anger runs through her causing her to lose concentration and slip with the knife she's holding.

 

Cursing herself, she runs the cut under the tap, watching the blood run down the sink.

 

She moves to grab the first aid kit from under the sink when she remembers that she's actually capable of dealing with this the easy way.

 

Moving her right hand over her injured hand, Regina watches as the cut starts to knit itself back together.

 

As the last thread of flesh is weaving back together, Regina feels a flash of pain, like a bolt of lightening pass across the front of her eyes before a much larger charge forces her to her knees.

 

Grasping the bench, the wave of pain gradually subsides until all she's left with is a dull ache in her head. Her nose is bleeding and she manages to pull herself up and lean over the sink, before reaching for a clean dishtowel to try and slow the bleeding down.

 

Breathing hard she tries to remember the last time she used magic. She only practices it sparingly around Henry, he still frowns at the use of it, and he has been in her presence more or less constantly since....

 

Greg, she thinks suddenly, since Greg.

 

She concentrates very hard, and slowly allows the magic in her veins to rise until it sits just under the skin. As she does so she can feel the pain in her head increase in line with the magic.

 

She steadies herself before bringing the magic above the surface, creating the smallest flame in her palm and the pain is both instantaneous and blinding. Her vision falters, her knees buckle and her ears ring until she squeezes her palms shut and the flame dissipates.

 

“Shit,” she says carefully. “Something is very wrong.”

 

-

 

She has enough time to clean both herself and the kitchen up before she hears the knock heralding Henry's arrival home from school.

 

She opens the door to find not only her son, who is bouncing on his toes looking positively guilty of something, but his birth mother standing rather sheepishly behind him.

 

“Hey Mom!” He says with far too much enthusiasm.

 

“Hello dear,” she says slowly, eyebrow raised in question.

 

“I thought it would be cool for Emma to come and join us for afternoon tea so I invited her along.”

 

Regina glances up in surprise, trying to read Emma, who has the good grace to at least look mildly embarrassed.

 

“I'm sorry Regina, I don't have to stay. Saying yes was the only way I could get him in the car.”

 

She is momentarily distracted running through the different ways she can tell Emma politely to get the hell out of her house, when she notices that her headache doesn't seem quite so bad. It had been pounding before she had opened the door but now it seems significantly muted.

 

She concentrates for a minute trying to sense the energy in the room. The reprieve isn't coming from her son who's positively brimming with energy enough for her to feel a spike of pain in her temple again, instead the dull balm seems to be emanating from Emma herself.

 

The more she concentrates on Emma, the less her head seems to throb.

 

It takes her a few seconds before she realises someone's calling her name.

 

“Mom?” she finally hears. “Can Emma please stay?”

 

Deciding on her course of action, she flashes her best mayoral smile before moving back from the doorway, arm sweeping in invitation.

 

“Why of course dear, do come in Miss Swan.”

 

The rest of the afternoon passes without major event. Henry soon loses interest in adult conversation and retreats to his bedroom, probably to consult his book Regina thinks spitefully, leaving Regina alone with an uncharacteristically quiet Emma.

 

The last thing she’s used to from this woman is silence, and in the end it's actually enough to irk her into doing something about it.

 

“Not that I care Miss Swan but I don't think you've been this quiet in the entire time I've known you. Is there something you should be telling me?”

 

Emma looks up at her, daydream seemingly broken for the time being. “They still want to go back.”

 

“What on earth do you mean?” Regina asks.

 

“My parents, they still want to go home. They managed to salvage the plant you had in your office. They’ve been cultivating the clipping on the outskirts of town.”

 

“They want to go home and they don't want to take you.”

She watches as Emma takes a deep shuddery breath and continues.

 

“They've realised that living here with magic present is too dangerous. Tamara and Greg were just the start, once the world catches on we’re fucked Regina. You don't know what people are like here, they'll come for us, for all of us once they know what we can do.”

 

“Right, so Snow and Charming, they want to go back and build their kingdom again? Without me?” she says still trying to process Emma's words.

 

“Yes, without you.”

 

“And what do you want Miss Swan?”

 

“I don't want any of this.” Emma says, honestly.

 

“I want to go back to pretending you’re just a giant bitch who raised my son for ten years and not the Evil Queen of Fairy-tale land. I want to go back to when a bad guy was just some criminal I had to catch for cash not Rumpelstiltskin the psychopath.”

 

They're very quiet for a moment as all the ‘what if’s’ overwhelm Regina's mind. What if they go back, what if they take Henry, what if I can't find a way to go with them, what if I never see him again, and oh god what if I'm left alone again after everything.

 

“I don't want to go” Emma says very quietly.

 

That admission is enough to stop Regina's racing heart trying to break out of her chest.

 

She tries to keep the panic out of her voice so shoots for sarcasm instead, “Charming family life not everything it's cut out to be is it Miss Swan?”

 

“Jesus Regina, can you just lay off for five seconds.” She says head falling into her hands as they scrub desperately at her face.

 

“I let the kid drag me over here because I didn't think you'd answer the door to me alone.”

 

“Why would you want to come here anyway, why presume I want to hear any of this?”

 

“Because I can't do this.” The without you is implicit if absent.

 

“They don't seem to get that this world is my home, I hated every minute I spent in yours, no offence,” she says offering a slight shrug of her shoulders to Regina.

 

“I'm not cut out for this family stuff Regina, I've spent my whole life alone, a mess. I don't know the first thing about bringing a kid up or being part of a family.”

 

“If you think you can go and leave Henry now,” she says voice dangerously low

 

“No god, I couldn't do that to the kid, I'm just saying he needs you too. So you have to help me find a way he can have both of us.”

 

“Ah,” she says finally understanding. “You want me to do your dirty work and find a way to keep us all here? It didn't occur to you to just say no to your parents Miss Swan? You are an adult after all.”

 

“They wouldn't understand, they have all these plans for me now.”

 

“They made a comment about arranging a meeting with a prince from their old neighbouring kingdom and I flipped out completely, I don't think they'll try that again at least. It's like they have all these expectations of me and they don't get that I don't want any of it.”

 

At Regina's neutral expression Emma continues, “Don't you think any of that is at least slightly nuts?”

 

“It's not unreasonable Miss Swan. Had you been brought up in our lands you would have had much more responsibility and from a much younger age. You would have been married in your early twenties, you would have been governing your own kingdom by now.”

 

With that Emma's head drops again and Regina can feel her taking slow breaths.

 

She can see cracks in Emma if she looks hard enough. They're subtle; barely visible in her seemingly infallible exterior but she can see them nonetheless, shining silver in the fading afternoon light. They stretch thin over some areas of her skin; pull tight at the corner of her eyes. She wonders if Emma is conscious as to just how close she is to coming apart.

 

“Why should I help you?” Regina asks finally.

 

“Because if you don't we'll both lose everything Regina, but you'll lose more than I will.”

 

“Fine,” she says, running her fingers through her hair, pulling slightly, just enough for the smallest spike of pain to flare at the base of her skull. “I'll see what I can come up with.”

 

-

 

She sees Emma out of the house not long after that. Walking her to the front door and leaning on the doorframe, she watches the hard line of Emma's shoulders as she retreats down the perfectly manicured line of Regina's garden path.

 

Regina's never been one to pass up a golden opportunity, and whether she realises it or not Emma has just presented her with one on an equally golden platter.

 

If she can succeed in doing what Emma has asked of her she'll not only rid herself of Snow White once and for all, but she might just be able to save her relationship with her son in the process. She may be stuck with the Sheriff for a time but that is a minuscule price to pay for the reward.

 

-

 

The next few days pass without incident. Regina doesn't see Emma once, and she actually starts to wonder if the Princess has had a complete change of heart.

 

She has thrown herself into research in the meantime, her magic having become progressively more unpredictable and dangerous since the incident in the kitchen.

 

She had woken up in the middle of the night after a horrifically realistic dream about her ex husband (and white dresses and dead wives and tears that wouldn't dry) to find all the furniture in the bedroom hovering a foot off the floor. A few days after that Henry had burst through the back door unexpectedly and she had blown the vase on the kitchen bench into a million pieces without meaning too.

 

With Henry safely folded in bed upstairs, she's settled herself into the house for the evening. Sitting at her desk in the study, glass of wine in hand, Regina finds herself mentally preparing for another sleepless night of combing through every book in her possession, looking for a way to fix her magic.

 

The knock on the door doesn't scare her so much as it makes her instantly weary. She doesn't have a great number of visitors these days, certainly none at close to midnight.

 

She opens the door slowly, half expecting to be greeted by a pitchfork wielding mob, but is greeted instead with the sight of a very unsteady looking Emma Swan.

 

“Sheriff, need I remind you that it's not common practice to show up on people's doorsteps in the middle of the night?”

 

Emma doesn't say anything at first, her hair is drawn over her face and Regina thinks she can hear the soft sniff that often accompanies tears.

 

“I told them.”

 

“Told them what Miss Swan?” Regina says impatiently. “Use little words if you have to.”

 

“I told them I don't want to go. Back I mean.”

 

“Ah,” she says slowly. “That's why you look like you've found your way to the bottom of a cheap bottle of whiskey?”

 

The question of why did you come here must pose itself clear enough on Regina's face, because before she can ask the question the answer is out of Emma's mouth.

 

“I came here because I don't have anywhere else to go. Happy?”

 

“Before all of this I could have gone to Ruby's but now I know she's Snow’s right hand guard dog, I can pretty much bank on the fact that anything I say will be repeated right back to her.”

 

She isn't sure what it is that makes her step back into the entranceway once more to welcome this wreck of a woman into her house. She'll try to tell herself later that right now Emma is weak, and all she's trying to do is exploit that. But if she's really honest with herself she knows that's not the truth. The truth is she can see those cracks more clearly now, by the light of the moon.

 

Against her best judgment she acquiesces, moving to make room for Emma to pass. “You'd best come in then Miss Swan, before Henry sees you like this.”

 

-

 

She leads Emma into the kitchen, gestures to one of the kitchen stools and busies herself with making a strong cup of coffee for the both of them.

 

“I'm sorry about all this you know,” comes the quiet voice from the other side of the room.

 

Regina turns to see Emma smoothing her palms over the cool marble of her bench top.

 

“For all of it. For turning up here in the first place, for staying.”

 

“I don't think you understand what you're saying,” she starts before Emma cuts her off.

 

“I do,” she says and Regina can feel the truth of those words in her veins.

 

“My life would have been a hell of a lot more simple if I'd just got in my damn car and left town.”

 

“They were really upset you know,” Emma says after a soft pause.

 

Eternal loathing is difficult to shake, and even after all this time, Emma's words light a dark little flame in her chest that flickers pleasantly at her parent’s sorrow.

 

“They both started crying, do you know how difficult it is to look a teary grown man in the eye?”

 

You have no idea Regina thinks to herself, I've lost count of the number that broke down and begged at my knees for mercy before the end.

 

“Yes, well your Father always did have a proclivity for the dramatic,” Regina says setting a cup of steaming coffee down in front of Emma, giving her something else to busy her hands with.

 

“I knew they weren't going to be happy about it, but it was more than that, it was disappointment.”

 

“I've sat across the table far too many times and had someone tell me they were disappointed with me or they expected more from me. I just couldn't deal with that from the two people I've waited my whole life to find.”

 

“This should be different right?” Emma says eyes glistening, finally looking up at Regina.

 

“I shouldn't feel like I can't wait to get out of their house. Like I have to walk on eggshells around them in case I say something that isn't royal enough.”

 

“God, why am I even doing telling you this crap? You're the last person who would even care.”

 

“Well as you said before dear,” she says slowly, setting her now empty coffee cup down in the sink, “You don't have anyone else.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Emma says finally, standing up but swaying dangerously as she does so. “I should really get home before they send out a dwarf search party or something.”

 

She'll regret the offer later, she's sure of it, but there's something about the sorrow and loneliness pouring off Emma that she finds oddly attractive.

 

“I can't let you roam the streets drunk Miss Swan, Henry and your mother both would have a fit if they found out I let you wander home. You'll stay in the spare bedroom for the night.”

 

She sees Emma's eyes light up at the offer, a night away from her parents apparently attractive even when she's spending it with her arch nemesis.

 

“I don't want to put you out,” she starts, still slightly hesitant.

 

“Not at all, the guest room is all made upstairs. I trust you'll be able to find your way up there by yourself?”

 

“Of course,” Emma says turning to walk out of the kitchen, dismissal noted.

 

“Thank you Regina,” she says over her shoulder as she pads upstairs.

 

She knows she's beginning to tread a very fine line now with this woman, but its been so long since she's been in the presence of someone who had made her blood boil in the right way that she can't seem to find the self control to stop.

 

The end to this is inevitable Regina thinks to herself, but the road there might be somewhat more enjoyable than she first though.

 

-

 

Regina moves herself back into the study once she hears the heavy pull of a largely unused door from the top of the landing upstairs.

 

While the curse was still active she had her substantial magical library hidden in her family crypt away from prying and curious eyes. Once it had broken however, she saw no point in hiding them away collecting dust so had them moved, still under lock and key of course, into her study in the mansion.

 

Having prided herself on her substantial collection of books from across a number of realms, Regina had been almost certain she would find a cure of sorts reasonably simply. Hours and hours of combing each and every page have so far proven utterly futile though.

 

Exhausted and running out of options, Regina lays her arms across desk and rests her head on her hands. This search has been exhausting and she's actually starting to lose hope that she'll find an answer here.

 

Taking a deep breath in she can smell the magic radiating off the books below her arms.

 

She isn't scared exactly, not yet anyway but she is beginning to become more concerned. She knows exactly how much of her magic is slipping away from her control, and unless she can find a way to stem the bleed she actually doesn't know what she'll do.

 

Regina shuts her eyes for a moment, in an attempt to stifle the frantic thoughts in her head. For the first time in weeks she finds herself thinking of her mother, and what she might have done in a similar situation.

 

Probably tear the town apart person by person until she found a cure, Regina thinks with a grimace. Twelve months ago that would have been tempting and for a moment her mind wraps itself serpentine like around the idea. It would be so much easier, a part of her says, the blackened part that tore a kingdom apart, it would be so much more satisfying to go down bleeding this town dry.

 

She shakes her head in an attempt to remove the thought. No, she thinks to herself firmly, that is not who I am anymore.

 

Gods, she thinks to herself, if this can't be stopped, please let Henry be enough to hold me back.

 

He won't be enough though she thinks; there will have to be more.

 

Her mind floats to the sleeping woman upstairs. Emma, she thinks with a breath.

 

She will have to make use of the woman before the end, whatever that end is.

 

-

 

Regina comes to some time later to a soft hand on her shoulder, slowly trying to bring her out of sleep. She hears her name spoken softly, quiet enough not to frighten, but firm enough to wake.

 

She opens her eyes then, and immediately feels a spark of pain flash down her back. Pushing herself off the desk she realises she's fallen asleep here again.

 

It takes her a minute before she wakes enough to realise there's actually another person standing next to her.

 

“What on earth do you think you're doing Miss Swan?” she says, voice rough with disuse.

 

“Is annoyance something that comes naturally to you, or is it a special skill you've acquired over time?”

 

“Look, I'm sorry to wake you but something looked like it was wrong,” Emma says apologetically.

 

“What do you mean?” she says rubbing softly at her face.

 

She looks to the window where the dawn light is stealing under the half closed blind, throwing an orange glow around the room.

 

“I uh, came down to grab a glass of water,” Emma says rubbing at the back of her neck. “I thought I saw a light on down the corridor so I came to see if you were still awake but...”

 

“But what Sheriff?” Regina says looking at Emma expectantly.

 

“The light was coming from you Regina, the whole room was lit up like it was midday, and you were muttering under your breath. I thought you were awake until I shook your shoulder. You kind of snapped out of it and then the light disappeared.”

 

She should have known better, better than to think that the magnitude of power lying in Emma wouldn't have some kind of effect on her haywire magic.

 

The look of concern on Emma's face turns to one of weariness when she takes stock of the books covering the desk underneath Regina's arms.

 

“What's wrong Regina, what are the books for? You know how Henry feels about all this stuff.”

 

“Once again your powers of deduction astound me,” she says quietly, combing her fingers through her hair.”

 

“Sit down Miss Swan, there's something I need to talk to you about.”

 

-

 

In the end it's actually much simpler than Regina had expected.

 

“So you're telling me, that whatever torture crap Greg did to you has done a number on your magic, and now its not working properly and you don't know how to fix it?”

 

“Very simply put, yes Miss Swan.”

 

“Why are you telling me all this?” Emma says, the worry clear on her face.

 

“Because there may come a time when I'm not able to protect Henry anymore, magically or otherwise. I need you to be prepared for that.”

 

“And as you so eloquently put it yourself earlier dear, I don't have anyone else either.”

 

Emma takes a deep breath and pushes out of the chair she's sitting in, walking over to the window where the light is falling more freely now.

 

“There's really nothing in any of these old books that can help you?”

 

“Not that I've been able to find myself, no.”

 

They sit in silence for a minute, before Emma walks over to stand by the desk, opposite Regina.

 

“You should get some sleep Regina, the kid will be up soon and you don't look like you've slept for a week.”

 

“If Henry wakes up then I can hardly go back to sleep, can I?” She says to Emma, annoyance colouring her features.

 

“I'll feed him, I'm sure I can manage one bowl of cereal by myself.”

 

The surprise and weariness must show on her face because Emma just rolls her eyes before continuing.

 

“I'll come get you in a couple of hours, come on Regina, it's not like he has to run off to school this morning. I know you don't trust me with anything but there's nothing life or death about cereal, I promise.”

 

The thought of that woman in her kitchen trying to do anything is enough to set her teeth on edge, but the offer is just too irresistible to pass up.

 

“Please try to refrain from burning my house down while I'm asleep Miss Swan,” she says slowly rising from the chair, magic popping between her joints as she stands.

 

They both move towards the doorway at the same time and for a minute Regina is close enough to Emma to smell the magic pulsing in time with her heart. She draws a long breath in under the guise of a sigh to gather as much it in before she steadies herself to leave.

 

Emma is beautiful, for all that she has done to destroy Regina's life, Regina has never doubted that.

 

She's not sure if being raised in the horrors of this world is responsible for it but Regina can't help but notice the distinct lack of Snow in Emma's personality. Charming, she can see in every inch of her, but she lacks the self-righteousness that the White’s possess.

 

Standing this close to Emma she can feel the power responsible for eliciting that involuntary display of magic earlier. The power in Emma is elemental and unbelievably attractive, even more so because the younger woman is completely oblivious to it. She can't quite understand why Gold hasn't tried to take it for himself yet.

 

Closing her eyes for a moment, she readies herself as she forces her feet to move her away from Emma's warmth. She can see Emma's eyes moving over her, trying to assess what just happened between the two of them.

 

“Whatever you say, Your Highness,” Emma says finally, following Regina as she moves out of the room. “Try and get out of bed on the right side when you get up won't you?”

 

Regina rolls her eyes as her hand closes over the smooth wood of the bannister. As she takes another step she realises that the constant pressure in her head has been absent the whole time Emma has been in her house, even with her little early morning light show.

 

This dependency is dangerous, it's weakness, she thinks to herself as she reaches the top stair and slides between her mercifully cool sheets a second later. It is a weakness her mother would have never allowed, but as she closes her eyes for the second time in six hours she simply cannot find it within herself to care.

 

-

 

They fall into an uneasy alliance after that. Emma accompanies Henry home after school most days and stays for dinner more often than not.

 

Regina refuses to acknowledge Emma's presence for the balm that it is, instead falling back to the sarcasm and cruel jabs (albeit somewhat lessened) that come so naturally to her. She's sure that Emma sees right through these as the defence mechanism they truly are, but in some misplaced act of kindness decides not to point out to Regina that she's aware of this at all.

 

It's when Emma's not there that Regina actually worries. When she's alone she has no one to distract her from the ever-increasing worry about her condition. Late at night she feels someone else in her head, the Regina from another life and another kingdom who took what she wanted with pain and blood. The Regina who tells her that the key to all of this is asleep across town, and that pulling her pretty little heart out of her chest would surely do something to solve the problem.

 

Her magic continues on its gradual decline, and her health soon begins to follow. Too afraid to sleep for fear of actually burning the house down, she pours over her books night after night in the vain hope that something new will reveal itself in the pages.

 

She hasn't given a moments thought as to how she's going to stop Snow leaving her here when they go back, although given the rapid decline of her mental and physical fitness, she’s not sure that is going to be a significant worry long-term.

-

 

It is rather ironically; a painfully beautiful day when Regina finally finds what she is looking for.

 

The sun is pouring in the windows of her study, highlighting pockets of dust, swirling with the movement of the room, when she throws down a particularly old book in an uncharacteristic bout of frustration.

 

The book lands page up in the desk, at a place that Regina could have sworn wasn't there when she had finished reading it moments before.

 

The hand is old but familiar, the ink faded on the page.

 

**Magical corruption**  
 **A condition only brought on by severe mental or physical trauma. Can leave the practiser unable to control magic of any kind. Normally accompanied by intense pain, memory loss and insomnia. Severity of condition depends on initial trauma. Long-term effects can include loss of magical ability, mental instability and in some extreme cases death.**  
 **Only known cures: true loves kiss, a curse cast using the heart of one born of true love.**

 

She feels her heart stop cold in her chest, tendrils of ice working their way from her heart outwards.

 

This is it then she thinks. This is my penance. This is the final cost of my revenge.

 

She had expected to be angrier, more distraught, but instead all she feels is hollow and for the first time since she held Henry in her arms ten years ago, she feels perfectly devoid of hope.

 

Her options then, according to this book, are to find her one true love in the next few weeks or murder her son’s mother.

 

As much as she sometimes loathes Emma Swan and everything her perfectly black and white morals have come to represent since she set foot in this town, do to something that abhorrent would break Henry's heart.

 

The alternative would be impossible she overrules at once. Daniel died a long time ago; she would not risk disturbing his peace a third time.

 

There are no more forks in the road, no other routes to take now.

 

So death then, she thinks.

 

-

 

Regina has the afternoon to herself, during which time she doesn't move a muscle; she just sits in her chair at her desk and watches the light fade from the room.

 

She should be thinking, trying to come up with a plan, but the only cognitive thought running through her head is I've finally lost.

 

Emma arrives with Henry late that evening, having taken him to the diner for something horrendously unhealthy as an evening meal following his weekly session with Archie. His therapy sessions had ended abruptly once the curse had been broken, but they had rather surprisingly started up again not long ago when Henry had come to her one night and asked if they might resume.

 

“Not because of the Evil Queen thing you know Mom,” he had said quickly. “I just miss being able to talk to someone that isn't you or Emma.”

 

She hears the door unlock with the key she had grudgingly given Emma after coming home from the office late one night, to find them both shivering out in the cold looking for Henry's spare hidden under a bush in the garden.

 

“I'll save you the trouble,” she had said with a wry smile, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her coat. “It's on your bedside table upstairs dear.”

 

The thump of Henry's bag on the floor of the foyer is accompanied by Emma's voice ringing out soft but clear from the entry way.

 

“Go up and get ready for bed kid, I’ll see where your Mom is.”

 

Emma knocks quietly before pushing the study door open and leaning on the doorframe, waiting for Regina to look up from the book that she has spent the last four hours not reading.

 

“Hey Regina,” she says softly, eyes taking stock of the curl in Regina's shoulders and the pallor of her skin.

 

“Henry's just upstairs getting ready for bed, do you want me to tell him to tuck himself in or….”

 

“No it's quite alright Miss Swan, you've done enough for the evening.”

 

She hesitates in the doorway for a minute and Regina looks up at her questioningly when she realises she's still there.

 

“Was there something else?”

 

“Uh yeah there kind of was,” she starts before she's interrupted by a bellow from the top floor.

 

“I'm ready for bed Mom!”

 

“Man,” Emma says running her hand across the back of her neck. “That kid’s got a set of lungs on him.”

 

“You have no idea,” Regina says with a grimace. “When he cried as a baby I had to reassure the neighbours I wasn't routinely torturing him.”

 

“I'll be down in a minute,” Regina says gesturing to the sofa as she walks out of the room. “Take a seat if there was something you wanted to speak with me about dear.”

 

-

 

She pads downstairs softly fifteen minutes later to find Emma sitting ramrod straight on the couch, looking mildly catatonic.

 

Her eyes find the corners of the room searching for danger, not finding anything she moves in front of Emma slowly.

 

“Emma,” she says firmly. “Can you hear me?”

 

At the sound of Regina's voice, Emma seems to snap out of it and looks at Regina with the most baffling air of pity, before moving to stand just a touch too close to her.

 

“Sorry, I was daydreaming I guess.”

 

“Yes,” she says wearily. “I've seen that look in more than a few of my council meetings dear.”

 

“You said before, that I'm going to have to learn to look after Henry, why? What's so important that you won't be around to look after him yourself?”

 

“You said it yourself dear,” she says carefully. “Your mother seems determined to keep me from him when you travel back to our land, I need to prepare you for the eventuality that I can't work around her plan.”

 

Lies have always come easily to Regina in her adult life, but this one seems to stick in her throat like tar.

 

“We, I mean he needs you Regina, you can't leave us, him. God.”

 

She runs her fingers through her hair and Regina can see the pale skin pulling tight over her knuckles.

 

“I just, I can't do this without you, any of it. I need you to fix this Regina. Please.”

 

Before she has time to react, Emma takes a step closer and grabs the lapels of Regina's jacket, pulling her none too softly towards her, pressing her lips to Regina's.

 

She has kissed desperate people before, she has felt it in the way their bodies pull taught, waiting to snap like a bow string stretched too far, but kissing Emma is something else entirely. She can feel the magic forming between them, arching like an electrical wire, and it does nothing but spur them both on.

 

Emma's lips slide over hers and teeth nip at her bottom lip as Regina gasps, and Emma takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into the other woman's mouth.

 

If she's honest with herself they've been dancing around this for months. There truly is such a fine line between lust and hate, but as she feels Emma's warm hands slip underneath the back of her shirt, the last shard of her resolve cracks and falls away and she pushes Emma back towards the couch.

 

Emma moves from her mouth to run her teeth sharply over the soft skin of Regina's neck before she bites down and Regina sucks in a breath in surprise.

 

Emma's legs hit the back of the couch and she is forced to sit while Regina slides her knees on either side of Emma's, before sitting in her lap.

 

It's the smallest, most insignificant thing, and Regina thinks she would have missed it had her senses not been so finely tuned by Emma's magic. She looks over Emma's shoulder as her head lolls back when Emma's hands slip under her top to move over her stomach, and sees her book open on the desk, the other novel she had placed over it to hide its contents pushed to the side.

 

Her eyes narrow in question before she realises what has happened, the reason for Emma's desperate hands and hungry mouth suddenly clear to her.

 

She freezes and Emma's hands immediately stop moving under her shirt.

 

“What's wrong?” she says, looking up to Regina.

 

“When I was out of the room before,” she says slowly, still not moving off Emma's lap. “What did you see?”

 

“I don't understand?” Emma says.

 

“You read the book on my desk didn't you?”

 

She visibly sees the colour drain from Emma's face and a whole other realisation hits her.

 

“Is this pity?” Regina asks with a grimace, moving off to stand next to the couch.

 

“It's true then?” Emma says standing to meet her, face white with fear. “You think you’re going to die, and that's why you've been talking about protecting Henry?”

 

“You had no right to go through my things Miss Swan.”

 

She sees Emma cringe at the use of her formal name.

 

“I'm sorry I just, once you left I felt weird, like something was watching me from your desk. I went and had a look and the book was just open. I couldn't help it Regina, I'm sorry.”

 

“Why does your lack of self restraint not surprise me in the slightest. You need to leave now Sheriff,” she says turning away from Emma.

 

“Leave? Jesus Regina, we need to talk about this. Does this mean it’s a permanent thing? Does this mean you’re…” Emma trails off, eyes glazing over.

 

She wants nothing more than to yell and scream, to fall at Emma's knees and beg her to save her the way she saved their son. Instead she straightens her back and turns, summoning all the strength she has left to keep her features cold, to stop her body betraying her.

 

“What happens to me is mine of your concern Miss Swan.”

 

“That is bullshit Regina, you're Henry's mother, you're....”

 

“I am nothing to you Emma, I need nothing from you, and you would do well to remember that.”

 

“Regina please,” Emma says, taking a step towards her, palms raised in acquiescence.

 

Summoning the energy from the room, pulling it into her body through her fingertips, she looks at Emma one last time. This is going to take every drop of power she has left, if it doesn't end up killing her.

 

She knows this is a huge risk but she's never been fond of pity, and she will not stand a moment more of it from this woman in front of her. She needs to show her that this fallen Queen still has power, that she is still to be feared.

 

Regina inhales as deeply as she can, drawing in one last breath of the energy radiating off Emma.

 

She draws her hands upwards slowly, and concentrates all of her power on Emma. Purple smoke starts to billow around her, pulling and swirling with the air currents.

 

Emma looks up at Regina; eyes frantically trying to follow the lines of purple pooling around her, panic clear in her eyes.

 

“What's happening Regina, what are you doing?”

 

“Your company is no longer required, nor is it wanted Miss Swan. You are dismissed.”

 

“No wait, you can't...”

 

With that she balls her hands into fists, drawing her arms close into her chest as the energy around Emma concentrates. The pain in her head that has been largely dormant for the last few hours sears across her eyes. As she watches Emma's form slowly disappear, the smoke gathers momentum and the pain in her head becomes overwhelming. Her vision blurs and she can feel the blood running freely from her nose.

 

The smoke starts to settle, but the pain in her head only increases, bringing her to her knees.

 

She can feel her consciousness slipping, can feel the pain taking over, forcing her over on all fours. She tries to hold back the tide, grits her teeth against the pain, breathing as slowly and as carefully as she can to stop herself from screaming, but the only thing she can think of is pain before another wave hits her and the world turns mercifully black.

 

 


	3. Second Iteration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That isn't who you are anymore.” Emma says tears rolling freely down her cheeks.
> 
>  
> 
> “I'm not who you think I am Emma, I'm so much worse.”

Second Iteration

-

Inevitably, underlying instabilities may appear.

-  


She has no idea how long a passage of time has passed when she finally wakes up, but the first thing Regina notices is the feeling of a soft pillow under her head, where by her recollection there should have been the cold wood of her study floor.

 

She starts awake then, her brain slowly registering that her current location would have been impossible without the aid of another.

 

Sitting up in bed, her eyes strain at the light falling easily into the window in her master bedroom.

 

She searches the room for whoever it was that moved her, presumably broken and bleeding from the study into her bed. Her eyes finally fall on a head of blonde hair, curled up on the chaise lounger next to the window.

 

“Good morning Regina,” Abigail says slowly, with more than a little caution in her voice. “How are you feeling?”

 

“About as good as I imagine I look dear.” She says hands cradling her head. “What happened, why are you here?”

 

“You don’t remember? I got a manic phone call from the Sheriff in the middle of the night begging me to rush around to your house and check on you.”

 

“She didn't say what was going on, only that there was something wrong with you and she couldn't get to you. She was frantic by the time I arrived, she had tried to break the door down to get in.”

 

“Of course she did,” Regina says rolling her eyes.

 

“But she couldn't Regina, the house was warded against her and her alone. Why would you do that?”

 

When Regina remains silent Abigail continues.

 

“It was lucky she called me Regina,” she says suddenly looking very serious.

 

“Emma was in hysterics by the time Fred and I arrived, when I walked in and saw you on the ground, blood everywhere I honestly thought you were dead.”

 

“Fred carried you upstairs and I cleaned you up a bit, not easy to do with dead weight” she says narrowing her eyes.

 

“Fred lifted you into bed and went home but I wanted to make sure that you actually woke up so I stayed on the lounger.”

 

“Well I'm terribly sorry to have put you out dear. I apologise on Sheriff Swan’s account too. She should never have called you, this wasn't your mess to clean up.”

 

At the implied dismissal, Abigail narrows her eyes.

 

“What's wrong Regina? Look I know we haven't exactly been close since the curse broke but you owe me an explanation.”

 

The message behind the set of her eyes must read loud and clear because before she can interrupt Abigail, the other woman starts again.

 

“You may not have considered me a friend Regina, but you were a friend to me. Before you faked my death and kidnapped me that is.”

 

“Loveless marriage to another woman's husband aside, I had a good life here before the curse broke, I know that wasn't something you gave to everyone.”

 

“I know you don't have many people to confide in here, but you were that person to me once, and I know you're doing your best to change for Henry. I want you to know I'm here for you now, if you need.”

 

“So I’ll ask one more time, before you try think of some quick lie, what is wrong with you?”

 

There have been many times in their half friendship over the past three decades when Regina has marvelled at the Queen that this woman would have made, had she not stripped them of their lands and titles. She knows that Abigail and Frederick would have made a more just monarchy by far than that of the Charming’s.

 

She studies Abigail's face for a moment, but sees no trickery there, only an earnest look of worry.

 

There are a handful of people Regina would ever trust with the care of Henry and Abigail falls in this incredibly small minority. When she finally falls, and Regina thinks it is now inevitable that she will, she knows that Emma will struggle under the weight of this new burden by herself.

 

For the sake of her son then, she decides to bow to weakness once more.

 

-

 

Telling Abigail is substantially easier that telling Emma was, that fact is not lost on her.

 

Abigail sits with the quiet grace of the queens of the old world as Regina tells her very calmly that she is dying.

 

She doesn't say a word the whole time, just listens, and for the first time since she woke up Regina feels not panic but calm.

 

When she comes to the end of the tragic tale, what part of her miserable life hasn't been she thinks, Abigail carefully wipes a single tear from her cheek and looks at Regina.

 

“There isn't any way to stop this then?”

 

“I don't think so dear, the penance for my vengeance has finally caught up with me.”

 

“You need to talk to Emma,” Abigail says quietly. “If you really think this is going to kill you then you need to settle your affairs. You need to prepare that poor woman so she can prepare your son.”

 

“Yes I expect you're right dear,” Regina says with a sigh of defeat.

 

“Is there something going on between the two of you?” Abigail says suddenly looking at Regina with a frown.

 

“Why on earth would you think that?” she starts before Abigail cuts her off.

 

“I'm not an idiot Regina, I've seen the way the two of you look at each other, like neither of you can decide if you want to kill the other one on the spot or...” she trails off.

 

“Or what?” Regina asks raising an eyebrow.

 

“Tear each others clothes off instead,” Abigail says pointedly.

 

“You said that one of the cures could be true loves kiss didn't you?”

 

“Yes but...” Regina tries before she sees the glint in Abigail's eyes.

 

“But what Regina,” she says, a hint of hope in her voice.

 

“I don't want you to get your hopes up over some misguided notion that Miss Swan and I are star-crossed lovers dear.”

 

“Of course not,” Abigail says smoothing her skirt as she stands up.

 

Taking Regina's last comment as a dismissal, Abigail moves to leave.

 

“Thank you for coming,” Regina manages, as Abigail is halfway out the door.

 

“Most people wouldn't have. I would have hated for Henry to.... well I'm very grateful that you came to check when Emma called.”

 

“Like I said before Regina,” Abigail says over her shoulder, “you're my friend, I wouldn't have done anything less.”

 

-

 

Slowly pushing herself out of bed Regina takes stock of her injuries as she moves to the bathroom.

 

She cannot help but let the image of Abigail's beautifully optimistic face swim to the front of her mind. If only it were that easy, allow the saviour to fall in love with her and save them both from a life of loneliness.

 

Regina slips the silk nightgown that Abigail had dressed her in the night before off and stands under the soothing stream of the shower. The steam billows around her oddly reminiscent of the smoke that had consumed Emma the night before.

 

The water is about five degrees hotter than is comfortable but she lets it run smouldering rivers down her arms, over her thighs, attempting to sear out the memories of Emma's panicked face as the purple had snaked its way around her limbs, banishing her back to her parents.

 

Unable to stop it, her mind wanders to thoughts of Emma moving so deliciously beneath her last night.

 

Regina is no stranger to a kiss born out of pity and fear, but kissing Emma had been different to anything she had ever felt before. She had expected the fire, that was one of the things that had drawn her to the other woman in the first place, but she hadn't thought it would be quite so enjoyable.

 

She has kissed powerful magic beings before, Maleficent one of the many, and there is an unforgettable in the way that magic jumps between bodies that are imbued with it. With the others though, it had been a taste of their power, an uninteresting distraction because her magic has surpassed their own. But with Emma, deliciously powerful and frightfully unaware Emma, it had been a tiny snapshot of the immense vault of untapped potential inside the other woman.

 

As loathe as she is to admit it, if her life does have an expiry date it is something she would like to indulge in again. It has been an immeasurably long time since she's had sex for anything akin to pleasure. For years it had been a tool used only to torture her before she had shed that old life like a skin and had discovered the _power_ to be found in it. If she’s perfectly honest with herself, it had been an insignificance amongst the chaos that Emma had brought howling into town.

 

God she thinks, shocking her much too warm body by shutting the water off too quickly. If someone had told her a year ago that in due course she would be legitimately debating the merits of sleeping with Emma Swan, she would have told them to jump.

 

Three decades of total compliance from everyone in her painfully beautiful town had dulled her senses, retired her fears. She had been unprepared for the threat that Emma had posed. In her old life, fear had kept her alert, it had kept her watchful, but the monotony and the false sense of security that followed had allowed Emma just enough room to get under her skin in the best way possible.

 

She could submit to her desires, fall into Emma's bed and her life for the short time she has left before her magic consumes her, but some small yet significant part of her resists. Perhaps it is an echo of her mother that lingers in her subconscious _love is weakness Regina, desire is much worse,_ that stops her. What ever it is she thinks finally, pulling on her dressing gown over pebbled skin, it is winning the maelstrom of thoughts in her head.

 

Moving to stand in front of the mirror she takes stock if the weariness in her form. A frighteningly apt assessment of Regina's mental state and her feelings for Emma aside, Abigail was right about one thing, she does need to organise her state of affairs before it is too late.

 

Walking out of the bathroom, Regina moves to sit softly at the foot her bed. What she still fails to understand most of all is the quiet with which she has accepted her impending death. For someone who has had to fight blood and claw for every part of her life since she was sixteen, it is incomprehensible the ease with which her spirit has finally given up. Perhaps it is just another parting gift from Greg, an unshakable melancholy doomed to follow her like a shadow until she finally gives up.

 

Self pity aside, if it is the last task she manages to achieve in this world, she will make sure she leaves a future, a legacy for her son, which unfortunately means having to speak to Emma Swan.

  


-

 

It is an overcast afternoon two days later when Emma finally shows up on her door step. The rough and impatient knocking heralds her arrival, and Regina steels herself with a deep breath before she pulls the door open to reveal a stone faced Emma on the other side.

 

When Emma doesn't volunteer a greeting, Regina moves aside to make room for her, gesturing into the foyer.

 

Pushing past Regina, Emma stands expectantly hands on her hips in the foyer, rage visibly rolling off her.

 

Tired of the childish behaviour, annoyance gets the better of Regina before regret does.

 

“I want you to know that I only phoned you out of necessity dear, it was not my intention to have you return of my accord.”

 

“Yeah, I kind of figured that when you sent me packing in a cloud of purple smoke Regina,” Emma says, more than a hint of anger colouring her voice.

 

“I won't apologise for my actions Emma, you should have never provoked me in the first place, but I am trying to make amends now, for Henry's sake.”

 

“If that's your version of an apology Regina, you could probably use a lesson or two in manners.”

 

“Right dear,” she says with a drawl. “You'll be the one to teach me I suppose?”

 

“Look I’m done arguing with you Regina, what did you invite me over for?”

 

“I meant what I said before, I am trying to make amends.”

 

“Organise your affairs you mean?”

 

“Semantics and your poor attitude aside Emma, I do mean to leave Henry wanting for nothing.”

 

That softens Emma's resolve slightly; admittance that this fate is unchangeable seems to ground her finally.

 

“We need to try to get you help Regina, I don't know what to do, I could ask Mother Superior? She's always got a magic trick or two up her sleeve.”

 

The suggestion cools Regina's blood where it runs.

 

“I will not ask Rheul Ghorm for help,” she says evenly through her teeth, “Even if the alternative means suffering through the torture of that ham fisted idiot again.”

 

“Regina, please” Emma tries.

 

“I said no Emma,” she says forcefully, “I mean it.”

 

Emma takes a deep breath in before showing herself to the study and Regina's whiskey decanter.

 

“What about fairy dust?” Emma says turning to face Regina. “Do you think that would help? I know Mother Superior wouldn't give it over willingly but I'm pretty sure I could talk Nova into giving me a handful.”

 

“That is a different kind of magic entirely Emma, one that's more likely to kill me than help me.”

 

At Emma's wrinkled brow she walks over to the cabinet and pours herself a whiskey. She forgets sometimes that for all her immense innate power this woman knows nothing of the laws of their world, magical or judiciary.

 

“Magic varies dear, dependant on a number of factors, the most prominent of which is its vessel. You for example, your magic is very pure, whereas mine is more dark than light.”

 

“External sources of magic are often representative of the being that harvests it. Dwarves are inherently good believe it or not, so the dust harvested by them will respond well to a light practiser like the fairies or yourself.”

 

“What would it do to you?”

 

“Most likely kill me,” Regina says simply. “It would act like a poison to me. My system cannot bond with it or absorb it so it would reject it almost immediately.”

 

“But I've seen Gold use it before? He's not exactly a saint, how did he make it work?”

 

“The magic of the Dark One is transcendent to most physical laws, he could coerce power out of any magical substance dear, we will not find our answers with him.”

 

At the sight of Emma’s mildly confused face she continues, “Fairy dust is an unusually powerful substance, it's also immensely unsustainable under most conditions.”

 

“Speaking of which there's something that has concerned me of late. Your Mother will likely be blind to it as she is with most things of consequence, so I need you to be aware of it should it become an issue.”

 

“I've known for a long time that Rheul has her own agenda, almost as much as Gold has. I'm convinced there is a reason she didn't want your Mother to come through the tree with you. I also think there's a reason she needed you to be raised here alone by strangers, I'm just not certain what it is yet.”

 

“Regardless of her past motives though, I'm aware she has offered to give you magic lessons. There is a reason for this Emma; I need you to listen carefully.”

 

Emma nods complacently and allows Regina to continue.

 

“Fairy dust is a concentrated by-product that is created by the environment to re-establish the equilibrium in an area after a practiser, like you or me, produces magic of a certain magnitude. Pure magic like that isn't found as one might find diamond, or precious metal, it doesn't grow unless it is created by someone else.”

 

“Oh,” Emma says slightly lost for words, “I didn't know that.”

 

“No dear, I can't imagine you did. There are only three users in this world capable of adding to a cache of fairy dust, Gold obviously, myself and you.”

 

“Now Gold and myself are far beyond the reach of the fairies, we were well before you were even born. But you Emma, if they can train you to practice how they need then they've established themselves a sustainable source of magic.”

 

“Mother Superior seems pretty powerful though, why can't she just add to their stash?” Emma says questioningly.

 

Regina rolls her eyes at that; “Parlour tricks Miss Swan, and borrowed spells. Besides something like that cannot be created by the substance from which it originated. It defies the laws of magic, which Rheul knows well enough.”

 

“Oh well that makes sense,” Emma says with a scoff

 

“What does?”

 

“Why she was so persistent when I told her I wasn't interested a few days ago. I thought that Snow had put her up to it, to further my magical education or whatever.”

 

“No dear, I think you'll find Rheul has an agenda completely separate to that of your parents, even if their interests do align on rare occasions.”

 

The end of Regina's explanation must be apparent to Emma who gets up and starts pacing the room.

 

“I know that will have been a lot to take in Emma, I will endeavour to answer any questions as best I am able,” Regina says in an attempt to calm her down.

 

“It's not that, it's just for the last ten years I tracked down what I thought were the worst people imaginable but you all have _nothing_ on them.”

 

“Every single person has an ulterior motive, even my parents. At least people in this world are honest about the bad shit they get up to. I thought that having to suss you out was bad but now I have to look over my shoulder every time I turn a corner.”

 

“And now,” she says in a huff,“You're telling me that on top of all this shit, you're dying and I'm going to have to take care of our son by myself.”

 

She could make these last few weeks a living hell for Emma, and there is a reasonably large part of her that wishes to do just that, but looking at Emma now, the way she looks so lost and broken and like she's running on fumes makes Regina falter.

 

She blames it on pity then, not this palpable pull that seems to want to drag her across the room into Emma's lap, the way she moves to kneel in front of Emma, picking up a small warm hand and holding it between hers.

 

As soon she does so she can feel the defeat sing through her bones, can feel it in the way her body bows to Emma's.

 

“I know you have no reason to trust me dear, but I will do everything I can to make sure that Henry is prepared for the new life he is to lead. That includes preparing you to a degree. I would never leave you to stumble through parenting, for Henry's sake, and for yours.”

 

Emma's eyes lift to meet hers and Regina can almost see the weight lift off her shoulders.

 

“For what it's worth, I'm sorry you know, about the other night. I didn't mean to do anything; there was just _something_ , like a hand on my shoulder pushing me to look at it.”

 

“It would have been better to find out from you, and nice to be able to finish... well you know,” Emma says blushing looking down on their still joint hands.

 

“So what do we do now?” Emma says, an innocent enough question, but Regina can see the hunger in her eyes, can see her pupils blowing wide.

 

“I honestly don't know dear,” Regina says as she stands up, trying to put a suggestion of distance between the two of them, brushing her skirt down in an effort to busy her hands.

 

Before she can take another breath though Emma is much too close and Regina feels her body move of its own accord, hands grasping to find purchase, finally settling in the curve of Emma's neck pulling her mouth to meet her own.

 

When they finally come together it is frantic and sharp and she can feel the desperation and magic arc between them like electricity.

 

Emma tries to pull her back, fists full of her now crushed satin shirt towards the couch, but she manages to break away from the other woman's mouth long enough to voice her objections.

 

“No,” she says breath heavy on Emma's cheek, “I'm not a commoner dear, if this is happening I intend to take my time, I have a perfectly good bed upstairs that will serve better than the couch.”

 

“What are we waiting for then?” Emma says pulling her by the hand out of the room towards the grand staircase.

 

-

 

By the time they finally stumble through the door of Regina's master suite, the dusk is falling through the open French doors, filling the room with a pleasantly cool breeze and Regina is short a pair of stilettos (discarded somewhere near the foot of the staircase) and the top three buttons of her silk shirt.

 

Emma has assumed the role of aggressor and for the first time in her life Regina doesn't bother to fight it, quietly content to let Emma bite softly down the column of her neck, tongue sweeping in to cover any marks that threaten to rise up.

 

She lets her hands wander over Emma's back, weaving into her hair, fingers tightening quickly when Emma bites too hard.

 

Emma pulls away sharply, question and apology on her lips but the moan that pulls from Regina's mouth is all the answer she needs to put a little more teeth in the next bite.

 

Regina answers by slipping her hands under the fabric of Emma's shirt, and running her nails down hard across the skin of Emma's back. It's enough to make Emma gasp in surprise and Regina takes the opportunity to slip her fingers under Emma's chin and kiss her again, slow and deep and long, savouring the way Emma's tongue moves over her own.

 

Regina feels Emma's hands grasp either side of her shirt, knuckles briefly brushing her breasts before she pulls, sending the remaining buttons scattering all over the carpet.

 

Regina has her mouth open half way to protest before Emma's mouth closes over it again, trapping whatever complaint she was about to voice inside.

 

“I'll replace the damn shirt Regina,” she says moving her teeth to run across Regina's shoulder. “It won't be the last thing I tear off you tonight.”

 

She feels Emma's hands move then, down over the small of her back. They drop lower and squeeze none too gently, before they pull the zipper of her skirt down so slowly Regina is shaking by the time it drops to the floor between them.

 

Suddenly aware of her state of dress compared to Emma's, and desperate to do something with her hands, Regina settles for running them up Emma's side pushing her top up and over her head as she goes, fingers fumbling slightly over the button of Emma's jeans a second later.

 

Jeans suitably dispatched on the floor along with Regina's other clothes, Emma pushes forward then, moving them both towards the king sized bed in the centre of the room.

 

Regina's legs hit the bed first and she moves to pull Emma down on top of her, a jolt of heat hitting the centre of her as Emma's leg moves to settle firmly in between her own.

 

“This isn't my first time with a woman dear,” Regina manages to get out, breath coming slightly shorter now, “But it has been some time since I've had any practice. I might be a little rusty.”

 

“I don't care,” Emma murmurs against her chest, mouth moving hotly over her collarbones. “Just tell me what you want.”

 

It's been a long time since Regina had someone in her bed that wasn't forced there, and the luxury of having someone who can't seem take their hands off her is something she never dreamed of ever having again. It's been even longer still since someone has given her the courtesy of choice, let alone indulging in her desires.

 

“Go slow, but make me work for it” she says finally. “Make me forget about everything.”

 

“And make it hurt,” she says an afterthought, “just enough.”

 

Apparently that's all the advice Emma needs because suddenly Regina feels like she's being touched everywhere at once, warmth spreading through her veins like fire.

 

Emma's hands slip under her back to expertly undo her bra before she throws it over her shoulder, frustrated by the additional barrier.

 

She feels Emma's mouth on her breast, sucking a nipple into her mouth, teeth scraping just enough to make Regina moan that little bit louder, feels her nails raking lightly up the inside of her leg coming to rest just shy of where she needs them the most.

Regina moves her hips towards Emma's hand, frustrated by the lack of contact, and as soon as Emma notices the action she moves off Regina, just far enough for Regina to mourn the burn of Emma's skin on hers.

 

“Uh uh,” Emma says with a smirk, leaning back down to kiss a hot wet trail from Regina's neck to her belly button, careful to avoid any other skin on skin contact.  

 

“You wanted to work for this remember? Put your hands above your head, if you move them before I tell you to, I'll stop.”

 

Emma moves to hover directly over Regina's core, pushing Regina's thighs apart with cool hands, breath hot enough to make Regina groan as she tries to move her legs together to get some sort of friction, but Emma holds them in place with a firm grip.

 

“That would be way too easy, don't you think?”

 

Emma slips her fingers under the edge of Regina's underwear and pulls them down her legs at a pace that suggests she has all the time in the world.

 

Regina feels her breath begin to quicken as Emma moves back up her body, placing open mouthed kisses all the way up her inner thigh before stopping suddenly and pulling her into a kiss that makes her eyes roll back in her head.

 

To say that she spends the next hour teasing Regina would be the understatement of the decade. Regina has no idea how much time has passed, minutes, hours, days, all she knows is that Emma works her up to the cliff and as soon as she threatens to tumble over it, her mouth or hands disappear and start their ministrations elsewhere.

 

Hands move to pinch and bite her breasts and fingers move to slide quickly within waiting heat, a hot mouth moving down to replace them but it's never quite enough.

 

After twenty-five minutes of this she doesn't think she could spell her own name.

 

By forty-five she doesn't think she'd be capable of intelligible speech if her life depended on it.

 

She's long since moved her hands to grip tightly at the headboard to stop her touching Emma, whether to grope or slap her at this stage she isn't sure, but she does know with a concrete certainty that when she looks at the slats in the morning there will be nail marks carved into the wood.

 

Emma's licking another slow trail down her body and just when Regina thinks she's about to scream or pass out in frustration, Emma feels the change in her body and pushes three fingers inside suddenly and quite without warning, while simultaneously sinking her teeth into Regina's neck. For a moment she actually forgets to breathe as her orgasm hits her in the chest like a curse.

 

Regina has never put an once of thought in that ridiculous expression about seeing stars when you come, but for about twenty seconds her sight visibly blurs and she has to refrain from screaming in relief.

 

When she does finally come around, Emma is lying beside her, leaning on an elbow with the most heightened look of satisfaction written all over her face.

 

“I hope that lived up to your expectations Your Majesty, it certainly lived up to mine.”

 

“Oh trust me dear,” she says gathering her strength to roll Emma onto her back. “If I was still your queen I would have had you stripped and delivered to my chambers long before now, to teach you a lesson in insubordination if nothing else.”

 

“Have you any requests yourself?” she says taking Emma's earlobe into her mouth and sucking hard.

 

“I mean to take my time with you as well, but I am receptive to suggestions.”

 

“Do whatever you want Regina, I just don't want to be in control.”

 

“Be careful what you wish for dear,” she says with a devilish smile, before leaning down and capturing one of Emma's nipples hard between her teeth and sucking.

 

Take her time she does, she draws the orgasm out of Emma slowly, savouring the feeling of power that has been utterly absent ever since she laid eyes on the passage in that book.

 

She moves her mouth over every piece of Emma's skin on display to her, silently memorizing every dip and swell. It has been a long time since she's taken pleasure in sex and Regina means to burn this into her memory.

 

She nips her way down Emma's toned torso, relishing the feeling of Emma's hands knitting in her hair, trying their best not to give in and provide some sort of direction.

 

She spends long minutes alternating between licking firm lines over Emma's clit only to pull away suddenly the minute she feels her body start to shake and her breath come shorter than it already is, and moving her fingers in and out of her with slow, hard strokes that make Emma shudder with every movement.

 

By the time she finally lets Emma come she is begging for release, murmuring Regina's name over again and again, eyes brimming with tears threatening to fall.

 

“Please Regina, I’ll do anything” Emma whimpers. “Just stop teasing.”

 

Regina looks up from between Emma's legs, brushing her hair away from her face, flushed with heat.

 

“Have you forgotten so soon dear” she drawls. “Your mine, for the night anyway. You'll come when and only when I allow it.”

 

She feels the desperation run through Emma's body then, a visible shudder.

 

She could play this out for hours, watch Emma break completely, but for once Regina is more interested in seeing how she falls apart in an altogether different way.

 

She resumes her earlier actions, working her tongue shallowly in and out of Emma, but starts putting a bit more pressure behind each thrust of her tongue. She moves two fingers in to take its place, and latches hard onto Emma's clit, sucking it into her mouth.

 

The urgency of the action almost causes Emma to lift entirely off the bed, and Regina reaches up with her spare hand to rest on Emma's hip to steady her as her back bows off the sheets.

 

She feels the orgasm hit Emma more than anything, feels muscles rippling around her fingers and the way Emma's while body snaps taught like a wire before finally sinking gratefully into the bed, her chest rising and falling desperately, trying to get enough air into starved lungs.

 

“Jesus you weren't kidding about that not being your first time with a woman were you?”

 

“I don't joke about many things dear,” Regina says moving to lie next to Emma, both of them staring at the intricate patterns on the roof of her bedroom so reminiscent of the paintings that lined her chambers in another world.

 

The sophistication of the curse catches her off guard some days, having stolen details from her mind to decorate her town that she didn't even know had existed. The apple tree set into the badge attached to Emma's jeans on the floor another simpler example.

 

“You’re good, you know that right, like really really good. I think I passed out for a good five minutes at some point in the middle,” Emma says gratefully.  

 

“I have had some considerable time to practice you'll remember.”

 

“Look Regina,” Emma says suddenly, moving to lean on an elbow. “That wasn't about pity, I need you to know that. If I'm honest I think I wanted to do that the minute I walked through your door the night I first brought Henry home.”

 

“I think your body told me as much,” Regina says running her fingers over the teeth marks and bruises on Emma's exposed shoulder.

 

“Even pity in its lowest form is revealed when people come together that strongly, there isn’t anywhere else to hide.”

 

“Was it a test then?” Emma asks suddenly sounding unsure of herself.

 

“In a way,” Regina replies, curling a lock of Emma's hair around her finger.

 

“Did I pass?”

 

“You did,” Regina says quietly sounding mildly surprised herself.

 

“What happens now then?” Emma asks, looking momentarily lost.

 

“I honestly have no idea.”

 

“Henry is staying with Mary Margaret tonight,” Emma says looking at Regina, eyes black and hungry.

 

“Maybe you could teach me a few new tricks?”

 

A life of betrayal and heartbreak and torment is telling her to run, and never look back. She knows she should throw Emma out of her bed and out of her life, but the way Emma looks at her makes her want to spend the rest of the night teaching her a few lessons she'll never forget.

 

And so she leans over, capturing the other woman's mouth in her own, pressing her down into the bed and ignores the warning pulsing through her body like a war drum.

 

“As you wish, Princess.”

 

-

 

They fall into a shockingly domestic routine after that. Emma falls into her bed more often than not and they spend the nights desperately trying to memorise each other's bodies.

 

Some nights they come together violently, both covered in scratches and bruises they don't remember making come morning, and other nights they take their time and fall asleep tangled in a hot mess of limbs.

 

The power of their joint magic, and the ever-increasing instability of Regina's, becomes more and more evident as the nights stretch on.

 

Emma begins to learn how to draw pleasure out of Regina using her own magic, and Regina does everything she can to reign hers in at the same time.

 

She hasn't had this much trouble controlling it since she first started practicing and the incidents that began with vases breaking weeks ago start to become more and more frequent.

 

Henry acknowledges Emma's increasing presence at their home with the nonchalance that only a ten year old can truly achieve, and much to her surprise life simply carries on.

 

-

  


The warmth that Emma and Henry's presence in the house provides dissipates the moment they leave though, and an afternoon spent wearing thin the carpets in her study and reading the same books over and over again eventually forces Regina out of the house in order to preserve her sanity.

 

Walking down Main Street in an attempt to take advantage of the pleasantly warm summers evening seemed like a viable idea at the time, but the minute she sees Gold approaching from the opposite side of the street she knows she's made a mistake.

 

She feels her back straighten automatically out of defiance, an unshakable reaction to superiors of her past she has never been able to train her body out of doing.

 

“Good evening Your Majesty,” he says with a smirk.

 

“What do you want Gold?” she says immediately weary.

 

An acute sense of wariness has always been an emotion she has worn as a shield around her mentor of old. On a few occasions in their past in her growing arrogance she had sought to challenge him and test her new, darker abilities and on each occasion he had beaten her senseless without so much as blinking an eye.

 

“Now now Regina, no need to be rude, I was simply inquiring after your health. You look like you're running on low,” he says taking in her weary appearance.

 

“And why on earth do you care?”

 

“Oh I don't,” he says and for a second she thinks she can see a metallic glimmer slither across his skin.

 

Rolling her eyes she turns to walk away.

 

“I can help you, you know dearie. For the right price that is.”

 

That peaks her interest, never has this man sought out a deal unless he was invested in the outcome in some way. Deals have always been, after all, his way of shaping the lives of others to suit his divine purpose.

 

She considers it for a split second, taking the easy way out, before she reminds herself that no matter how far gone she is down this path to ruin, magic always comes with a price. Agreeing to any deal now would only serve to manipulate what little time she has left.

 

“I would beg on my knees to the Charming’s before I asked for your help _sortiarius_ ,” she spits as she pushes past him.

 

“Ah, he says, almost fondly. "You did pick up Latin so much easier that my other students, shame your pride always was more important to you than your wellbeing wasn’t it?”

 

“You can't stop it by yourself you know,” he says in that awfully familiar lint. “No matter how many books you read or pretty stars you pray too. There is only one kind of magic that will save you now.”

 

“That's enough,” she says, much stronger now.

 

“Suit yourself dearie,” he says, turning to walk away.

 

There is something else though, something she has been sitting on for days now. She finds the question coming out of her mouth before she thinks to stop it.

 

“You know how much power that girl has inside her Gold, why haven't you gone after it yourself?”

 

“Because she's not mine to take dearie,” he says with a smile that sets every hair on her body on end in an instant. “She's yours”

 

At Regina's baffles expression he continues “A white queen to match the dark. Rather poetic don't you think?”

 

“What the hell does that mean?” she growls.

 

“All in good time my dear Regina, all in good time.”

 

He's about ten feet away when she hears his parting remark, sing song but as clear as if he were standing beside her again.

 

“May the Gods save the Queen.”

 

-

 

Regina would be lying through her teeth if she said that Gold’s comment had had little effect on her, pacing the entire length of her home and its grounds has proved little distraction. She has run through every possible interpretation of his comment in her head but none of them are yet to make any sense.

 

Her first and simplest theory is that he is lying and this is just another way for him to throw her further off the road of sanity and sit back while she unravels.

 

Her second theory is that perhaps he is telling the truth and Emma is hers. As absurd as it is, even she can appreciate the beautiful symmetry in what Gold had said, Emma being the only light capable of being equal to her dark. But she is not the innocent she once was and happy endings and true loves kiss are for Snow and her insipid husband, not for those who have seen the true horrors of the world as she and Emma have.

 

Still as ridiculous as it is, there is a small part of her that yearns for this to be true. She destroyed a kingdom to appease the darkness that Daniel’s death had created, and to find that love again, in another world seems as unspeakable as it is desirable.

 

The third and most disturbing theory is that Emma has been given to her. The Dark One had the power to influence so many different lives; it would make sense then that theirs be the ends to his means as well. Everything that has happened in her life had served a purpose why should her true love be any different?

 

Gold had procured Emma's son for her after all, had rewritten all of their destinies (or had simply written then in the first place) to secure a place for him in Regina's life, why should it have been any different for Emma herself.

 

As much as she tries to deny it, there is no plausible reason that explains why he would have left Emma and her veritable nuclear bomb of magical energy untouched unless there was a reason for it.

 

Regardless of his motives or his involvement, she needs to reassess her relationship with Emma. If her involvement with Emma has been predetermined and Gold is using Regina to manipulate her, she will do all she can to protect Emma from his influence with the time she has left.

 

-

 

The break comes sooner than expected, in the end.

 

It's been a few weeks of relative normalcy, during which Regina has only destroyed two priceless relics from the old kingdoms. She is sitting at her desk in the study, reading the storybook that set so many things in motion in some last desperate attempt to find something that will allow her to stay and watch over her son and his mother, when Emma comes barrelling through her front door, red faced and out of breath.

 

“I found a way,” she says, desperately clutching her side, trying to catch her breath.

 

“What on earth does that mean dear?” she asks, immediately wary.

 

“I found a way to fix you,” Emma says, and for a second Regina loses herself in the blind look of hope in Emma's eyes, before she realises that nothing is ever that simple, not for her.

 

“Slow down and breathe Emma,” Regina says, taking Emma's hand and leading her to the couch.

 

“I asked Mother Superior Regina,” Emma says. “She thinks that removing your magic will solve the problem. That it will fix you.”

 

A cold glimmer of panic runs over Regina's skin at Emma's words. As much as her magic is going to be the cause of her slow and painful death, the idea or someone removing it is abhorrent.

 

“You spoke to her?” Regina says speaking with a calm she does not feel. “After I specifically told you not too?”

 

“That's what you're choosing to listen to in that sentence? I just said we might be able to save you Regina.”

 

“Oh you stupid stupid girl,” she says dropping Emma's hand to stand. “You have no idea what you've done do you?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Emma says, fire in her words now. “I found a way to save your life because all you were doing was sitting here waiting to die.”

 

“Your ignorance astounds me at times Emma, do you not think the idea hadn't crossed my mind first, do you not think that I would have run through every possible scenario in existence if it meant I got to stay here with my son?”

 

That catches Emma of guard; Regina sees her falter before she can continue.

 

“I have run through every single possibility, a thousand times. How dare you presume to make that choice for me?”

 

“You have no idea how long that monster has lusted for my magic. The only person I have ever known with more ambition for power was my mother.”

 

“You don't have to be scared Regina, if that's what the problem is, whatever happens afterwards, I can help you through it.”

 

“Oh you naive idiot,” Regina says turning away from her. “What do you know of fear?”

 

She can feel something stirring inside her then, something dark and cold in the pit of her stomach. A blackness she hasn't felt in many years.

 

A defence mechanism Gold had called it a long time ago, an innate switch all powerful magic users have inside their subconscious.

 

She can picture the precise moment he had first told her of it, in the clearing on the outskirts of Snow’s summer palace, the dusk highlighting the glitter in his skin.

 

“There will be times dearie, when people will seek to harm you or your magic,” he had said. “Magic isn't passive, it is very much alive. It has a survival instinct of its own and if it senses that it, or you are in danger it will act if you do not.”

 

She has never experienced it personally, her own killer instincts sharp enough to take over before the magical defences were able to in her old life. But three decades of a life spent living in relative peace have made her slow, and her magic takes over before she can stop it, and with her grasp of it in its current state there is no way to reign it back in.

 

She can feel the black slip in the edges of her vision, can feel her grasp on control retreat as the black grows. Emma must see it too because she takes a hesitant step back, one foot behind the other, assuming a subtly defensive position.

 

She raises her hands in submission, sensing the danger immediately. “Regina, I'm not sure what's happening but you need to listen to my voice.”

 

Regina hears the words, but they're muffled, almost like she's underwater. She wants to tell Emma to run, to get out as fast as she can but she cannot force her body to respond.

 

“How did you think this would end Emma?” she says instead. “I'd willingly give my magic over and you and I would live happily ever after?”

 

“I was trying to help Regina, I was desperate. I can't lose you, you're too important, to Henry, to me.”

 

“How sweet,” she hears herself saying, moving slowly towards Emma. “What do you think your mother would say about all this?”

 

“Do you think she'd be happy that you're in my bed every night? Writhing underneath me? Pulling my fingers deeper inside you?”

 

“Stop,” Emma says but Regina is quicker, raising her hand to silence her.

 

“You have no idea do you? This is what that bitch has wanted all along. Removing my magic would kill me dear, but she wouldn't have told you that. Not until it was too late anyway.”

 

“I bet she even made you to swear not to mention it to me, didn’t she?”

 

She moves closer to Emma then, stalking her like prey. “What would you have done then I wonder, as I lay screaming on the ground. Would you have killed me? I certainly would have begged you to.”

 

She stops in front of Emma, leaning in to whisper into her ear. “Would you like to know what it would feel like?”

 

Regina can feel the fear rolling off Emma as she runs her hand softly along the line of her jaw before wrapping her fingers around Emma's neck and squeezing hard.

 

She wants to stop this, wants to drop her hand and disappear in a cloud of smoke but she can't, no more than she stop her hand from moving or her voice from speaking.

 

“Stop,” Emma manages to spit out, fingers grasping desperately at Regina's fingers.

 

“No, I don't think I will,” she says tightening her grip ever so slightly. “I want you to _feel_.”

 

With that she drops her hand and Emma has a moment of respite as she tries urgently to suck in a breath, before she sends Emma flying backwards into the entranceway with a flick of her hand.

 

“I suppose Rheul instructed you to bring me into the forest, did she dear?” she says sweetly walking through to the other room, standing over Emma's prone body lying in a heap on the floor.

 

“She would have meant for you to bring me into a circle, she would have spelled the earth beforehand, so I couldn't fight back once I realised what was happening.”

 

“Then, she would have started drawing my magic out, slowly at first. It wouldn't hurt to begin with, my body would be in shock you see.”

 

Stepping over Emma, she moves a few feet away before turning to face her again and raising a hand.

 

“It would just be pressure to start, as though someone was sitting on my chest.” She squeezes her hand slightly to demonstrate and Emma sucks in a breath in surprise, looking up to Regina with wide eyes.

 

“Then it would start to push, to crush, and breathing would be harder.” Regina squeezes a bit more and Emma's eyes widen in pain.

 

“The pain would slowly become harder to deal with, I might have started to cry at this point,” she says with a frown.

 

Emma is moving now, crawling towards the front door but Regina moves slowly around her to block the path out.

 

“Then, just when I thought the pain couldn't get any worse, it would double and I would feel my ribs begin to creak.”

 

“I would have begged for death before the end, I would have implored you to kill me just to make the pain stop. I wonder if you would have, with your parents watching on. They would have given permission for this you see, a royal decree. They would have said it was for the best, that it was the right thing to do.”

 

“Regina stop, please,” she says begging between haggard breaths.

 

“What did you think was going to happen?” she says patience finally snapping.

 

“I was a _tyrant_ Emma, not some glittery Evil Queen from your story books here.”

 

“Would you like a list of my crimes? Patricide, Matricide, Regicide. I am a King slayer, a killer, the thing that dwells in the shadows. I murdered an entire village just to try and unearth your mother.”

 

“That isn't who you are anymore.” Emma says tears rolling freely down her cheeks.

 

“I'm not who you think I am Emma,” she says balling her fist as tight as she can, hearing ribs give way and crack. “I'm so much worse.”

 

This magic is much more powerful than that which she has access to every day. It's nothing to her then to summon the purple smoke forth with a flick of her wrist. Snow’s apartment she thinks for a second and with a muffled scream, Emma disappears from her sight.

 

Threat suitably dispatched, she feels the blackness in her vision and the powerful magic retreat, leaving behind the crippling pain that forces her to her knees. Somewhere in the distance she can hear her phone ringing, followed by the sound of an ambulance siren screaming through the centre of town a few blocks over.

 

“Emma,” she manages with a sob as she feels her body go limp and crumple on the cool marble floor, consciousness slipping away like the tears down her face.

  
  


-


	4. Third Iteration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell me the truth, for once in our miserable lives. Was Emma mine to love or to ruin?”

Third Iteration

-

Flaws in the system have now become severe. System recovery may prove impossible.

-

 

Patience is an art not a reflex; she learnt that long ago at the foot of her mother's chair.

 

Decisions made in the heat of the moment are often regretted. A decision cold, calculated and meticulously planned within an inch of insanity is infinitely more fulfilling. She wants to rush to the hospital; to fall on her knees at Emma's side but history has taught her it will do little good.

 

She has achieved what she thought she must. Sending Emma to her safety through an act of violence will ensure she does not come back looking to forgive.

 

She wants to go to Emma and beg for mercy but she knows she must stay; she must entomb herself in this flawless manner and await her death as a Queen would.

 

So she picks herself up off the floor of the entrance, bleeding and bruised, and she waits.

 

-

 

The knock on the door comes two days later.

 

She reconciled herself with the idea of dying a long time ago, has faced death with her head held high more times than she can care to remember. This will be no different she thinks squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath.

 

She opens the door bracing for an attack, but is greeted not by a sword wielding shepherd and his seven short statured companions, but a furious looking Snow White.

 

She's known Snow for a long time and has seen fear, pain, doubt and anger in her muddy brown eyes but it’s been a very long time since she's seen them flash black with rage.

 

“What do you want Snow?”

 

She looks bone tired Regina realises after giving her a once over, her make is long gone leaving behind a face as pale as Regina can remember.

 

“You almost killed her Regina, it took Doctor Whale two days to stabilise her.”

 

That takes Regina aback although she tries her best not to show it. She knew Emma's injuries were likely to be significant but she had no idea they would have threatened her life.

 

“She should have known better that to threaten my magic Snow, it was meant as a warning shot for you and your followers. If I'm prepared to do that to Emma what do you think I'm likely to do to them or to you.”

 

“Call off your dogs Snow, I'm warning you. If you don't, threatening my life will be the last order you ever give them.”

 

“What do you mean if I would do that to Emma?” Snow says warily.

 

“What's going on between the two of you? I know it's something, do you think we haven't noticed the empty bed every night?”

 

Regina does smile now, “I don't think that's for me to disclose dear, what happens between Emma and I is just that, between Emma and I.”

 

“If you have feelings for her,” Snow says through clenched teeth, “then why would you do something like that to her?”

 

“I told you Snow, she threatened me and I retaliated. You'd know a thing or two about retaliation wouldn't you? Isn't that all we've been doing for the last forty years.”

 

“Of course,” Snow says throwing her hands up in defeat. “Someone comes to you with a solution that you think threatens you, and instead of talking it through like a normal human being you torture them to get the message across.”

 

“I didn't torture her,” Regina says slowly, “I simply wanted to give her a reason not to come back.”

 

“Try and justify it all you want, Regina. The only reason I didn't break down your door the moment you dropped my daughter bleeding and broken on the floor in front of her son, was I didn't want her to die without her mother at her side.”

 

“What can I say, you Charming’s cling to life the way you cling to each other. Except for your father, then again he had one foot in the grave from the moment your mother died.”

 

“Why are you doing this Regina, don't you care about Henry?”

 

“I'm the Evil Queen remember dear, you must surely? It was you who gave me the title after all. I don’t care about anything. Now leave before I send you home the same way I sent your daughter.”

 

“She's going to want answers Regina,” Snow says over her shoulder as she walks down the garden path.

 

“Let her come dear, let them all come,” she snaps to Snow’s retreating form.

 

“I have nothing left to lose.”

 

-

 

She spends the next few days in a constant state of awareness, ears pricking for the quietest hint of danger. She has warded the house as best she can, losing consciousness twice for her efforts. It will not do a great deal to deter, but it will at the very least provide her with a head start.

 

When the wards are tripped for the first time, she is upstairs in her bathroom. Determined not to be murdered wearing nothing, she manages to throw on a bathrobe before she hears the click of the front door lock.

 

Unless Emma or her son have handed the keys over to their idiotic minders, this intruder can only be one of two people.

 

She slips down the stairs quietly, body tensed for the fight, but the last thing she is expecting to see is the back of her son's head as he tries to relock the door as quietly as possible.

 

“Henry?” she says softly, not wanting to scare him.

 

He spins round, looking for the source of the noise before his face softens and he sprints towards her, throwing himself into her arms when he gets within a few feet of her.

 

If this is a trick or an illusion, it is utterly convincing she thinks breathing in the soft apple scent of Henry's favourite shampoo.

 

He is sobbing into her dressing gown as she runs her hands softly through his hair, whispering soothing words into his ear.

 

“Tell me it's not true,” he manages to get out between sobs. “Tell me you didn't hurt Emma on purpose. That's what Grams and Gramps are saying but Emma said you didn't mean to, that you couldn't help it.”

 

“They wouldn't let me come and see you, but they were with Emma at the hospital and I said I was going to get a snack from the vending machine and I ran as fast as I could.”

 

She knows she should lie, it is the only way to keep him and Emma both safe, but for the first time since his birth mother rolled into town in that god-awful yellow death trap, he is giving her the benefit of the doubt and the idea of lying to him now is unfathomable.

 

Her tears start falling as she pulls away from him slightly to look him in the eye. “Emma was telling you the truth my darling,” she says softly. “I hurt her but I didn't mean too. The person I used to be, the cruel one, sometimes I can't control her, she controls me and I couldn't help it.”

 

“You need to tell them that,” he says urgently, wiping at his face. “You need to come to the hospital and make it right.”

 

“I can't dear,” she says smiling sadly. “I have to stay here. I don't want to hurt anyone any more Henry, and the only way to make sure that I don’t is to stay away from other people. It's safer you see, for me and for everyone else.”

 

“But how will you get your happy ending if you can't see Emma again?” He says tears starting again.

 

“Oh my darling boy,” she says smiling through her tears. “When did you get so clever? You are my happy ending. Mine and your mother’s.”

 

“She misses you, you know, I can tell she's really mad at being hurt but she misses you a lot. Sometimes when she dozes off to sleep she says your name. It always makes Grams screw up her face but it makes me smile. “

 

“I miss her too Henry, I miss you both very much, but for now we have to spend some time apart. I want you to go and look after Emma, be her knight in shining armour. Can you do that for me?”

 

“Yeah,” he says sniffling, “I can do that.”

 

“Now I think you need to get back to the hospital before they start to worry. Can you get back there by yourself?”

 

“Yeah,” he says straightening up, suddenly looking much older than he has any right to. “I’d better get going.”

 

He pauses at the front door and turns to face her.  “Love you mom, I'm glad you didn't hurt Emma on purpose.”

 

“I love you too dear, thank you for coming to check on me.”

 

And with that he is gone, and she is left alone sitting on the stairs of a mansion that suddenly feels so suffocatingly empty she can barely breath.

 

_Love is a weakness_ , she can hear her mother say in the back of her head, _love will lead you nowhere but ruin._

 

Standing up she shakes the memory out of her head, there are enough ghosts in this house without carrying the weight of her mothers as well.

 

She has lead herself down this path by telling Henry the truth, she must see it through now, wherever it is to lead.

 

Regina turns up the staircase and heads towards her bedroom.

 

A visit to the hospital may be on the cards after all.

 

-

 

She knows this has been a dreadful mistake the moment she feels Gold’s magic enter the hospital. It's late, close to midnight, but Regina didn't want to run the risk of bumping into any of Snow and Charming’s disciples.

 

She is about twenty feet from Emma's room when she feels the sickly sweet pulse that announces Gold’s presence to her, followed by Charming’s insipid voice ringing out down the hall.

 

She stops cold, waiting hidden on the other side of the corner.

 

“What the hell are you doing here Gold?” she hears Charming spit.

 

“Why my dear shepherd, I was simply inquiring after your daughters health, I didn't think I would be well received during visiting hours so I thought I'd pop on by now.”

 

“She doesn't want or need your sentiments Gold. I think it's best if you leave. Now.”

 

“No harm no foul dearie,” he says turning to leave. “I trust Regina's not been to visit?”

 

“No, and if I ever see that woman again I'll...”

 

“You'll what? Kill her? I imagine your daughter might have some reservations about that.”

 

Their raised voices must bring Snow out into the hallway; Regina can hear her questioning voice thick with sleep.

 

“What's going...” she starts, before Charming cuts across her.

 

“What do you know of Emma and Regina?”

 

“I know many things you simpleton, I know they've been tempting fate since the moment Emma came to town. I know Regina is the reason she's lying in that bed, ribs strapped up tight, and I know they were destined for each other the moment your daughter was born.”

 

That pricks her attention immediately, she had deduced from his comment from their meeting earlier that it might have been possible, but it's another thing entirely to hear it come from his mouth.

 

“You’re lying,” Charming says, and Regina can imagine him reaching to draw a sword that is not there.

 

“You Charming’s are always so reactive,” he says with a laugh.

 

“Explain yourself Gold,” he says and Regina can hear the steel in his voice now.

 

“Oh well I could dearie, for a price that is. You see information such as that which I have doesn't come cheap, you would need to make it worth my while.”

 

“No deal,” Charming says immediately but Snow is quicker still.

 

“What price Gold? If there is something we need to know, tell us.”

 

“Oh the price would be steep my dear Snow White, this is no everyday deal you see. I shall leave you with a teaser however, to help you decide. Their union has been predestined for ages, spans of time of which we have no comprehension.”

 

She can imagine Snow and Charming both turn a sickly shade of pale as the weight of his words settle in their minds.

 

“You did this,” Charming says, and Regina can almost hear the break in his voice.

 

“Oh I didn't need to dearie, although I must say it has worked out remarkably well for me regardless wouldn't you say?”

 

“What do you mean?” Snow says, voice like ice.

 

“Well I always needed Regina, I didn't want to have to bear the brunt of the consequences of my own curse now did I?” he says.

 

“I also needed a way to turn her off, to subdue her once I got here and found exactly what I was looking for. I always knew she was going to be powerful you see, but the monster you helped create when you told her mother about her Daniel, well that created something far darker than I had anticipated. I had always meant to ruin her, but you did the job much more effectively that I could ever had hoped.”

 

“You,” charming says, despair dripping off every word, “You orchestrated every piece of this didn't you? She never had a chance, either of them. You ruined all of our lives just to find your son.”

 

“You're not listening peasant,” he says voice firm for the first time all evening. “I used her, I moulded her, but on the matter of highest importance, your daughters heart? My hands are clean.”

 

With that she can hear him collect his coat around himself, and take a few steps down the hallway.

 

“Wait, you never told us what the price would be? Snow says to his retreating form.

 

“Why a favour dearie, I'm always in need of a favour.”

  
-

 

Regina has decided she's heard enough, they'll be distracted arguing between themselves for the next few minutes. If she wants an opportunity to speak with Emma alone this may be her only chance.

 

She closes her eyes and tries to concentrate on the warmth and pull of Emma's magic a few doors away. She moves her palm in a semicircle and feels the strain of her magic resisting her request, focusing harder she feels the dull thump start in the base of her skull and with a final flourish of her wrists, finds herself standing at the foot of Emma's hospital bed.

 

Tubes protrude from most of her body, her nose, her torso, her wrist and for a moment Regina nearly crumples under the realisation of what she has done to this woman, given the information she overheard from Gold a moment ago.

 

As she walks around to stand by the side of the bed, she can see Emma taking fast, shallow breaths, rib cage presumably restricted by what she imagines are tightly wound bandages under Emma's insipid green gown. She looks so very small and weak that Regina, who has held hearts in her hand and reduced them to dust, Regina who has tortured more people than she can count, almost drops everything and just runs under the shame of it all.

 

She gently picks up Emma's hand in her own and runs her fingers softly over Emma's knuckles, the tiniest jolt like an electric shock shooting through her at the contact. She moves her other hand to brush a stray lock of hair back off Emma's face.

 

“I am truly sorry dear,” she says quietly, not wanting to wake Emma.  

 

“It was never my intention to hurt you at all. I lost control and I do what I always do, I hurt the people I care most about. I wish I was strong enough to fight it but I'm not, I'm not like you Emma. I'm weak, and I always have been.”

 

“That's why the darkness took such a liking to me you see. I was an easy target. I tried to fight it at first, when I was strong, when I had courage but it was just so much easier to let the hate and the rage consume me.”

 

“I wish I was strong like you Emma, but how could I be when all I had to keep me going was revenge and loneliness.”

 

“You have no idea what it feels like to be powerless, to have no say in the design of your life. To be used as a barter in a marriage like some common market sow.”

 

A stray tear rolls down her cheek and lands on their joint hands, and suddenly Regina feels a stronger jolt jump from her through to Emma and watches as Emma wakes suddenly, desperately sucking in a sharp breath, her eyes wide but lucid.

 

“Emma,” Regina breathes as she watches the woman in front of her take slow, steady breaths.

 

“Are you ok? How badly did I hurt you?” she asks, body tensed.

 

“I'm not gonna lie Regina,” Emma says wincing as she pushes herself up into a sitting position. “You did a pretty good number on me.”

 

“I truly am sorry, it was never my intention to hurt you, regardless of what your mother has probably tried convince you.”

 

“I know Regina, I saw someone else in your head, as soon as I mentioned the...”

 

“I wouldn't dear,” Regina says holding a hand to stop her. “I have no idea what kind of limits that particular safety clause has.”

 

“I wasn't sure if you would want to speak with me,” Regina says suddenly unsure of herself.

 

“Jesus, stop with the pity party would you Regina? You act like the only one who had a shitty childhood.”

 

“You have no idea what I endured,” Regina snaps, patience draining away suddenly.

 

“Jesus Regina don't I? I grew up in the system for god’s sake. Do you even know what means?”

 

At Regina's blank look Emma continues.

 

“It means for eighteen years I had no idea what was going to happen to me from one day to the next. I had no idea if the family I was being placed with was one of the good ones or one of the bad ones.”

 

“I know your mother was a piece of work but at least you had a father who loved you. You knew who you were Regina, you had a last name. I had nothing but a few scars that no one could see and a pretty mean right hook.”

 

“And now, now that I finally find my family I get told that actually this was just a really elaborate joke all along and my shitty, miserable excuse of a childhood was so some lunatic from another goddam world could find the man who left me pregnant and in jail.”

 

“There has to be something more Regina, there just has to be, because if there's not I don't know how much more of this I can take.”

 

Regina runs her thumb softly over Emma's knuckles before looking at her sadly.

 

“There's something I need to make you aware of dear, the laws of our land would allow you to kill me for what I've done.”

 

“But we're not in that land Regina, and I have no intention of ever going back there. I struggle with microwave mac and cheese, how the hell am I supposed to hunt and gather or whatever?”

 

“I imagine you would find a way around it dear, you always do. You certainly seem to have the Charming aptitude for survival, something for which I am immensely grateful,” Regina says smiling at Emma softly.

 

“I should go, I can't imagine your parents will entertain themselves for much longer and I don't think they'll take to my presence too kindly.”

 

“Regina wait, I am sorry too you know. If I hadn't...well I should have listened to you. I should have known better. I know people have taken away choice all your life I should never have taken the option away from you. I'm just so scared.”

 

“I know dear,” Regina says with a sad smile. “So am I.”

 

-

 

When she finally returns home, heels echoing off the marble floor of her entrance way in an awful symphony of loneliness, Regina is so emotionally drained she doesn't even make it upstairs to bed, instead falling asleep where she lays on the cool leather couch in the study.

 

When she does finally open her eyes she doesn't immediately recognize her surroundings and starts awake, panic flooding her system.

 

She is sitting in the middle of a field; the grass looks long, dry and scratchy like hay, and the late afternoon sun is falling beautifully through the trees on the far side of the clearing.

 

It takes Regina a moment to realise the grass under her hands should feel rough but when she tears a handful from the ground it is as soft as silk.

 

Perhaps this is all part of her magical demise, uncontrolled transportation to another land. Fear paralyses her for a moment and she starts to hyperventilate when she realises she may never actually get to kiss her son and his mother goodbye.

 

Thankfully the panic is relatively short lived, when she turns round to see a painfully familiar leather jacket draped over the arm of an oddly philosophical looking Emma Swan, standing ten feet from her.

 

“Emma?” She asks curiously. “What are you doing here? Where on earth are we?”

 

“I don't know Regina,” she says with a carefree shrug. “I'm pretty sure this is your doing not mine.”

 

“This is a dream? Are you really here or just some figment of my imagination?”

 

“Try asking me something easier,” Emma says with a laugh. “Like what's my favourite colour?”

 

“At least attempt some semblance of seriousness for one moment will you? What if this is some kind of trap designed to make me drop my guard?”

 

“Jeez, stop stressing out and enjoy the moment would you Regina? Here, come sit down with me.” Emma says gesturing just beyond her, to a rug on the grass that Regina could have sworn wasn't there a moment ago.

 

When Regina just stares at it blankly, Emma sighs in exasperation and grabs Regina's hand leading her over.

 

Emma sits down Indian style on the blanket and motions for Regina to lay down with her head in Emma's lap.

 

Regina raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow in question, and looks a down at Emma with a disbelieving smirk before Emma rolls her eyes again and pulls Regina down into her arms in a bundle of limbs.   

 

“Do you think you would have loved me, if we had met in the other world?” Emma asks after a while. “If you hadn't been forced to marry Snows father?”

 

“I don't know dear, my mother probably would have forced me to marry someone else before we would have had the opportunity to meet.”

 

“I would have been a princess right? Wouldn't that mean I'd have been able to choose who ever I’d like?”

 

“Your parents may have allowed you to make some suggestions, but ultimately you would have married to benefit the kingdom dear, that was how the old world worked.”

 

“Well,” Emma says, placing a strand of Regina's hair behind her ear. “I think I would have picked you to marry me, if I'd had the option.”

 

“I mean you’re smoking hot now, and you’re how old? Ninety?”

 

Regina snorts at that before swatting Emma playfully on the thigh.

 

“Your parents are perhaps some of the less conservative royals I have ever met, but I don't think even they would have tolerated you choosing to marry a woman Emma.”

 

“Well thank god I didn't grow up there then, huh? How much trouble do you think I would have gotten in if they'd found the two of us in the stables with my hand up your skirt?”

 

“I shudder to think dear,” Regina says laughing softly. “But if your performance the other night was anything to go by, I imagine it would have been worth any punishment they could have conjured up.”

 

The evening air is starting to cool but everything about this moment is so peaceful Regina can't help but mourn the fact that this is only a dream.

 

“I'm scared Emma,” Regina admits finally. “No, actually I'm terrified. I've waited four decades to be happy and when finally I manage to find a shard of it, it's snatched away from me again.”

 

“Mother always told me fear was for children, that it was a useless emotion that our brains persist with before we knew any better. That a lady born of good family had nothing to fear beyond her wardrobe choice for the day.”

 

“Fear is a healthy emotion Regina,” Emma says in response. “How else do you think I survived growing up? Fear taught me which foster parents I needed to be wary of, when to stay and fight and when to run like the world was ending. Fear is how you survive, don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

 

They lie in silence for a time after that, the only noise the rustle of Emma's sleeve as her hands comb lightly through Regina's hair.

 

The pleasantness of the moment is broken soon enough though.

 

“That's my queue to leave I think,” Emma says moving Regina's head out of her lap before standing up and brushing the dried grass off her jeans, looking up at the sky as she does so.

 

“What do you mean, why do we need to leave?” Regina says, mild annoyance colouring her features before she realises what Emma is looking at.

 

Enormous malevolent looking black storm clouds have rolled over the hills of their clearing, the failing light having hidden their presence to an extent.

 

“Time to leave Your Majesty,” Emma says, all humour having left her voice.

 

“It's time to do what you were born for.”

 

“Emma, wait! What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she yells to the other woman's retreating form before the darkness closes around her once more.

 

-

 

Regina knows something is wrong before she even wakes. She can feel the fever of her skin like the heat from an iron poker through the layers of clothes she fell asleep in.

 

Tearing off her jacket she looks wildly around the room for the source of the pulsing she can feel running over the surface of her skin, before she raises a hand to her face and realises it's coming from her.

 

Her veins strain against the skin of her hand, the blood running through them as black as pitch. She looks wildly around the room to the mirror and sees her eyes lit up in a blaze of violet.

 

Looking down Regina can see the carpet beneath her feet blacken and start to smoke, the darkness underneath her heels starting to spread in a perfect circle around her.

 

She tries to raise her hands to quell the heat radiating off her body and succeeds only in making the circle push further, faster.

 

“You're going to burn this house to ashes before you succeed you fool,” she says aloud to herself.

 

How poetic this is, she thinks as she takes a deep breath and focuses on the furthest point in the forest away from the town. She will die, and she will take everyone in this town with her.

 

-

 

She lands on her knees on the wet, mossy ground, transportation spell having sapped the energy to keep her upright.

 

She watches as the earth starts to burn underneath her palms, mirroring the damage in her study, but moving at a much quicker rate.

 

She watches it advance two, three, four feet from where she is kneeling in a matter of seconds. She's going to destroy the entire forest in less than an hour at this rate, so she concentrates every remaining particle of energy in her body and forms a circular shield a few feet ahead of the scorch mark, and watches pleadingly as the black reaches the shield and thankfully stops.

 

The hot pulsing returns then, but much stronger than when she woke up. It runs over Regina's skin like fire, and she shrugs her blazer off in an attempt to ease some of the heat.

 

She's expecting a mercifully cold shock of air against the bare skin of her arms but nothing happens. Rather than a release, she can actually see the waves coming off her body and move to try to push through the barrier of her shield.

 

Every wave that hits the shield sends a flash of pain through her, and she buckles over clutching her head willing the pain to subside but it remains absolute.

 

She starts to loose consciousness then, slipping into blackness between the waves of agony. When she opens her eyes after what could have been minutes or hours she can see a group of figures in the distance, blurred by her shield.

 

She shakes her head, trying to concentrate on them and not the pain, and forces her vision to focus. There are five, no, six figures walking cautiously towards her circle and she pushes up off the ground to hold up a palm in warning.

 

As they move closer Regina can make out individuals. She can see Snow and Charming walking shoulder to shoulder, Charming with one hand on the hilt of his sword.

 

She can see Ruby desperately trying to keep hold of Henry, who is trying valiantly to struggle out of her wolf-tight grip.

 

Behind them, largely hidden by the rest of the group she can just make out the black and white habit that Rheul has chosen to don even now the curse has been broken.

 

Leading the small hastily assembled mob though is the shock of blonde hair that Regina has been searching for. She sees Emma falter at the sight of her lying in the dirt, so unbecoming of the Queen she once was.

 

Emma is naturally the first to reach her, knees sliding into the wet ground, inches in front of her shield. Eyeing the pulsing bubble warily she tries to put her palm up to the barrier before Regina shakes her head.

 

“I wouldn't do that dear,” she manages to get out, voice raspy with pain and disuse. “It's for your protection more than it is mine.”

 

“What's going on?” Emma says desperately, “Is it happening? The thing we read in the book, is this what it meant?

 

“It would be extraordinary coincidence if it were anything else don't you think?” The joke is meant to ease Emma, to trick her into thinking Regina is in less pain than she actually is, but all it does is makes Emma's brows crease further in concern.

 

She manages, gritting her teeth in the most subtle way possible, to pull herself up into something resembling a sitting position.

 

“How did you find me?” she asks Emma, though she knows even as she's asking it will be someone else that answers. “I tried to get as far away from town as I could.”

 

As predicted it is Rheul that answers for them all, and Regina tries not to roll her eyes as soon as the other woman opens her mouth.

 

“I felt an extraordinary release of energy within the town lines Regina, your magic leaves a very recognizable residue, and to have released that much at once I knew something was wrong.”

 

“Wrong or exactly as you had planned?” she spits to the fairy.

 

She turns back to Emma and addresses her as gently as she is still able.

 

“Emma you need to leave, now. Take Henry across the town line and get as far away from me as you possibly can. This is only going to end one way and it won't be good for anyone near to me.”

 

She is grinding her teeth by the end of her plea, the pain only worsening as the magic in her body reacts to Emma's proximity, exciting the pulses bruising her already weakened shield.

 

“Please, I have absolutely no idea how to stop this and I will only be able to maintain this shield for a little while longer. I don't want Henry or you to be anywhere near me when that happens. I don't want him to see this,” she says vision blurring with tears.

 

“There's really nothing you can do?” Emma says pleadingly.

 

“No” she says, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.

 

“Well that's not exactly true is it now dearie? I offered you my assistance weeks ago and you turned me down.”

 

She whips her head round with an urgency she didn't know she still had in her and sees Gold sitting cross-legged on a log, hands clasped daintily on his knee. Gone is the garb of this world, instead he elected to dress in the wardrobe of the old world. She can see the leather of the crocodile hide he was always so fond of draped over his shoulders.

 

“There are only two things I know to be absolute in this world Gold, Magic _always_ comes with a price and so do your deals. Now leave, so I can say goodbye to what is left of my family.”

 

“Leave?” He says with a bark, “and miss all the fireworks? I don't think so.”

 

“I've waited a very very long time for this Your Majesty, so you'll forgive me if I don't scurry off just yet.”

 

“Explain yourself then,” she says spitting. “I heard your soul crushing sob story to the Charming’s last night. If you had a hand in this you owe it to me to explain before this ends.” On her knees in the dirt she is defiant.

 

“Well if you listened well enough dearie you would know I had but a minimal part in this. I only diverted the course of destiny in such subtle ways to achieve the means to my ends; I didn't have a hand in what was to become of either of you.”

 

Emma looks to Regina then, curiosity getting the better of her concern.

 

“What the _hell_ is he talking about Regina?”

 

“I don't believe that for a second,” Regina says. “You have left nothing in this world to chance, now tell her Gold, tell her what you told them.”

 

“I told you dearie, I had nothing to do...”

 

“LIAR,” she screams as an enormous surge of pain hits her, robbing her of her vision for a moment.

 

“Tell me the truth, for once in our miserable lives. Was Emma mine to love or to ruin?” She yells at him across the clearing, tears running freely down her face now.

 

“Did you make her fall for me, did you rewrite the stars to make her mine?

 

“Oh no dearie,” he says with a smile. “Didn't you hear me at the hospital clear enough? Your union has been preordained for eons. It was written in the stars by the stars themselves before any of us were even born.”

  
“Do you think it was an accident Henry grew up under your care Regina? Destiny needed a way to unite the two of you in this world, and what better to tie two people inextricably than a child. I couldn't have done it better myself.”

 

“You see you were made for the darkness dearie, as she was made for the light.”

 

“There has never been a greater love story than that written in all the lands, you'll excuse me saying of course,” he says to Snow and Charming.

 

“Why should we believe anything you say, how do we know this isn't just another lie, another way for you to get exactly what you want?” Emma says gruffly.

 

“It wouldn't have mattered how I intervened, destiny would have written a course to bring the two of you together. If the dark curse to end all curses couldn't keep you apart Your Majesty, nothing could.”

 

“I could have sent you to a land on the other side of the galaxy and you would still have come together. I could have locked you in box and dropped you in the middle of the deepest ocean and Emma's magic would have found a way to save yours.”

 

“As for the believing part, well I don't see you have too many options just now, do you?”

 

She feels the magic in Emma's heart surge then, and the pain of it is more than she can bear now. She can feel her grip on the shield slipping, can feel it weakening as the grasp on her consciousness falters as well.

 

“Emma please, please,” she begs, digging her hands into the scorched earth beneath her, writhing in pain, unable to hide it.

 

“You've heard him, now leave me love and take our son as far away from me as possible.” Another wave hits her and she screams.

 

“You need to stop this Emma,” Snow says walking up to stand behind her. When Emma turns to face her she sees tears falling freely down Snow’s face. “She's suffered enough, you need to make this stop.”

 

Regina watches in relief then as Emma turns back and draws her father's sword from the scabbard on his hip, metal singing, and walks back towards her.

 

She raises a hand hesitantly to Regina's shield before taking a breath and pushing through the barrier, falling to her knees beside Regina.

 

“Put down your Father’s sword dear, I won't have you cutting my throat in front of our son.”

 

She looks at the sword in her hands, suddenly disgusted with the object and drops it quickly to the dirt.

 

“You need to tell me what to do Regina,” she says desperately. “You need to tell me how to stop this.”

 

“We can't,” Regina says through a sob. “I have no idea what's happening to me, I can't control anything anymore. I'm a time bomb Emma, and you have to turn me off.”

 

“Turn you off, what do you mean...” Emma starts before she answers the question herself.

 

“I won't kill you Regina, not in front of our kid. You told me to drop the sword yourself.” 

 

“Not that way dear,” Regina says not unkindly. “The only way that will ensure I die quickly and that my magic will fade immediately with me.”

 

Emma looks directly at her then and watches on, horrified, as Regina pushes her own hand into her chest and pulls out her heart, glowing a striking shade of purple.

 

“No,” Emma says pushing away from Regina. “Absolutely fucking not.”

 

“It's the only way Emma, please. I gave you a taste of the agony I'm in, you have to make it stop. If you love me, you'll make it stop.”

 

“How did you?” Emma says, tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes turning them the most beautiful shade of green Regina has ever seen.

 

“I told you, after the first time I took you into my bed that there is no place for lies between lovers such as us.”

 

“I knew from the first time you came apart under my hands, because that was when I realised that in spite of everything that has happened in our lives and our histories, I loved you too.”

 

Emma does cry then, tears stream down her cheeks and her shoulders drop in devastation.

 

“What the hell am I supposed to do Regina?”

 

“Help me dear, and end this.”

 

She presses her heart into Emma's shaking hands, gasping as she feels them, ever warm and comforting close around it.

 

Emma looks down at her hands, now shaking so hard Regina is worried she might drop her heart into the dust before she has a chance to finish this.

 

“What do I?” Emma tries to start before she dissolves into sobs again.

 

Regina wraps her hands gently around Emma's. “All you have to do is close your hands.”

 

Emma takes a deep shuddering breath and looks into Regina's eyes. “This is what you want?”

 

Regina nods sadly, tears running down her cheeks to match Emma's now.

 

She watches as Emma stares at her heart, glowing even brighter than she thought possible in the other woman's hands.

 

“No,” she hears Emma whisper and watches as she shakes her head and looks into Regina's eyes again.

 

“No, I'm not doing this. We're not doing this. There has to be another way,” Emma says quite adamantly.

 

“There isn't dear,” Regina tries to say. “This is the only way. Please Emma I don't know how much more of this I can take.”

 

“Maybe not by ourselves, but together Regina. Maybe we can do this together.”

 

“Emma,” she tries before Emma interrupts her again.

 

“No, you have to stop with the death speech Regina. We are going to fix this, now try and stand up.”

 

“I can't,” she says through her teeth but Emma is already lifting Regina's arm over her shoulder with one hand pulling her off the ground as gently as possible, holding Regina's heart very carefully in the other.

 

“If we really are the true loves to end all true love then we can do this Regina, you just have to trust me for a little bit longer.”

 

“You were right, I love you. I think I've loved you from the moment I first saw your obsessive compulsive, narcissistic, control freak, power hungry face.”

 

“I'm about to implode and take out a small town, and you really think this is the best time to insult me?”

 

“No, you still don't get it. I don't love you despite that stuff; I love you because of it all. I never understood why all I wanted to do was drag you into an interrogation room and fuck you breathless when you were trying to frame my best friend for murder, or why I actually used to look forward to those awful board meetings.”

 

“You were like a god-damn magnet Regina, I just wanted to be near you and I could never understand why.”

 

“And I was so angry with myself all the time because even after the curse broke, and I learnt who you really were and who I really was, nothing changed. I still wanted you like nothing I'd ever wanted before. I thought you're an idiot Emma Swan, just like she always tells you. Do you really think a stray like you is ever going to be good enough for her?”

 

“And then suddenly the world turned to shit and that idiot Mendel turns up and threatens to destroy the family I had given up hope of finding, kidnaps and tortures you and gives you a fucking death sentence, and somewhere in the middle of that mess I felt you start to look back at me, the way I looked at you.”

 

“So now that I finally have you, there's no way I'm letting go this easily. I plan on pissing you off for years to come Regina, that can be your proper penance, not this,” she says gesturing around them.

 

Then suddenly and without warning Emma pushes her hand into Regina's chest and kisses Regina hard on the lips and Regina can feel heart slip beautifully back into place.

 

Two things happen almost simultaneously then, a blinding pulse pushes out from the point where they are standing and the hot waves rolling off Regina stop instantly.

 

For a moment she feels nothing but blissful quiet and the softness of Emma's lips against hers, the pain having dissipated completely with the white pulse. There isn't a decibel of noise in the whole forest; she can almost hear the shocked heartbeats of their hastily assembled audience.

 

“Emma,” she says disbelieving, pushing back on the other woman's shaking shoulder. “What did you do?”

 

“Yes Emma,” Snow says bewildered behind them both. “What did you do?”

 

Grasping tightly at Emma, still unable to believe the events of the last few minutes, she looks to Gold for an answer she very obviously doesn't have.

 

He stands proudly, addressing everyone in the clearing.

 

“You've just witnessed the union of the two most powerful magic beings in all the realms.”

 

“Now bow to your Queens.”

 

-


	5. Epilogue

Epilogue

-

Two months later

 

The sun is falling easily through the French doors in her master bedroom as Regina flattens out the skin-tight black Prada dress for the twentieth time in five minutes.

 

She can hear the chatter of her guests outside on the back lawn underneath the open window.

 

She runs a hand self-consciously through her hair; falling slightly longer now than the length she kept it for the duration of the curse. The change at Emma's bequest, like so many other concessions she has made lately.

 

She can still feel Emma's hands in her hair as she panted heavy kisses against the inside of her thighs, kissing and nipping as she had moved up Emma's legs slowly.

 

“I think you should grow out your hair,” Emma had said offhandedly.  

 

“Why on earth would you be thinking about the length of my hair, when I'm this close to getting you off dear?” She had said at the time, only a little frustrated.

 

“It gives me a bit more to hold on to,” Emma had said, winding her fingers through Regina's hair a bit more firmly and tugging in the most delicious way.

 

Finally comfortable with her appearance, she finds herself twisting the rings on her wedding finger nervously. A stunning claw set solitaire sitting comfortably alongside a matching plain gold band.

 

She feels a warm arm slip snugly around her waist then, pulling her backwards into Emma's waiting body.

 

“If you were trying to sneak up on me dear, you weren't very successful. I felt you coming the moment you decided to come upstairs.”

 

“I know,” Emma replies, kissing the side of her neck softly. “Kind of takes the fun out of life don't you think?”

 

Pulling Regina away from the mirror, Emma spins them gently to stand face to face.

 

It takes something remarkable to truly surprise Regina these days, but the moment she finally gets a decent look at Emma her jaw almost drops to the floor.

 

Her hair is woven into a neat braid that sits atop her head like a golden crown, and a knee length soft coral dress that wouldn't look a stitch out of place in a Grecian court, wraps around her trim frame as though it were made for Emma and Emma alone.

 

“You look breath-taking dear,” she says to Emma.

 

“Yeah, well you don't clean up too badly yourself,” Emma says in reply, smoothing her dress down in a mirror of Regina's gesture a moment ago.

 

“You don't have to wear those you know,” Emma says gesturing to the rings on Regina's fingers.

 

“I know being magically married basically does the trick in every way we need, I guess I just thought you'd appreciate a bit of sparkle too you know?”

 

“I love them dear,” Regina says earnestly. “I don't wear them just for your sake you know.”

 

“Oh, well good,” Emma says, seemingly satisfied for the moment.

 

“The same goes for you as well,” Regina says running her fingers lightly over the white gold band and matching solitaire on Emma's ring finger. “I know you're hardly the jewellery type.”

 

“I guess I thought I'd never actually have one you know,” Emma says thoughtfully. “I kinda like it too.”

 

“Well it does complement your dress beautifully dear. Speaking of which, what are you actually doing here. I thought we agreed we wouldn't see each other until we made the announcement? I know it's not as though we’re actually getting married today but...”

 

“You’re a sucker for formality, huh?” Emma says finishing the sentence for her.

 

“I suppose you could say that, yes. Nothing about the last few months has been remotely conventional and I guess I just wanted to make sure today slightly resembled a ceremony in some way.”

 

“I also didn't send you to stay at your Mother’s last night for the good of my health you know?”

 

The night in the forest had been life changing for both of them. Gold’s words about a magical union had had a surprisingly literal meaning as they had both discovered over the following weeks.

 

She could feel Emma's presence from a mile away now, magic in her veins quite literally warming if Emma was in close proximity. The balm that Emma had been to Regina in months past having amplified into something much more...sensual.

 

Their magic had done a number of other things, Gold had explained in the days after, their union having quite literally shifted the course of their little kingdom of Storybrooke.

 

“You are the true heirs to the kingdom,” he had said to them both during a meeting he had called between her, Emma and the Charming’s.

 

“You were merely keeping the throne warm for them I'm afraid Your Highnesses,” he had said directly to Snow. “Your rule was nothing but a filler until they realised who they truly were to each other.”

 

“The Stewards of any realm will bow to their joint magic should they choose to find another home, it is the natural order of things after all.”

 

He had explained that their realised power knew literally no equal in any world and as such had asked for passage into another, far far away from any memory of his failures.

 

“It's really as easy as that?” Emma had questioned at the time. “We send you to the land of your choosing and we’re rid of you forever?”

 

“There is nothing more for me here,” he had said simply. “Not now that your power is as it is.”

 

Emma's mouth, warm and sharp on her neck brings Regina out of her thoughts.

 

“If I wasn't going to let you see me until this afternoon,” she says huskily, “What makes you think I'm going to allow any of that behaviour before tonight?”

 

“You're serious right?” Emma says breaking off contact with her skin. “Do you have any idea how good you look? How could you have thought this was going to go any other way?”

 

The double entendre takes Regina’s breath away for a moment before she feels Emma’s warm hands around her waist ground her.

 

She should push Emma off and attend to her guests downstairs, but the way Emma is pushing her slowly back against the wall, her magic singing at the joy of having Emma so close to her makes it impossible to do anything. She lets her head fall back against the wall as Emma drags her teeth sharply along the column of her neck, her hand running up the inside of her thigh pushing her dress up roughly in the process.

 

“You're going to have to be quick dear, your mother will be looking for you downstairs.”

 

“Don't you worry,” Emma says smirking against her neck as her hand slips underneath black lace into a shockingly wet heat. “I don't think this will take long at all.”  

 

“Don't tease then,” she says through her teeth, trying not to moan at the way Emma's fingers slip inside her suddenly, failing to do so when Emma pushes hard with the full strength of her arm, filling her completely.

 

Emma's strokes are long and languorous, as though they have all afternoon to do this and not a few stolen moments. She feels her eyes roll back in her head with every strong thrust of Emma's hand.

 

It doesn't take long before she feels that delicious tingle start in the pit of her stomach, and she digs her nails hard into the flesh of Emma's bicep willing her to keep pushing harder.

 

She feels the smallest pulse of magic come off the two of Emma's fingers currently buried as deep inside her as this damn dress will allow, before she's biting into the skin of Emma's shoulder trying to stifle a scream.

 

It's just in the nick of time too apparently, because as she's panting against the warm skin of Emma's collarbone she hears Snow’s unmistakably authoritative voice ring out from the bottom of the stairs.

 

“Emma Swan, don't you think for a second I don't know what you're doing up there. Both of you come down here this instant.”

 

Although their relationship had improved remarkably in the past few weeks, Regina can't quite stop the eye roll at her words.

 

“Mrs Mills and I will be down when we are ready Snow,” she throws over Emma's shoulder none too softly.

 

“I swear your mother has some kind of radar for inappropriate behaviour dear,” she says pushing Emma off to straighten herself up in the mirror.

 

“Oh I think she just knows us too well,” Emma shoots back smirking.

 

“What do you say then love,” she says to Emma sweetly. “Shall we go and announce the division of our rule to the masses?”

 

“It would be my honour Your Majesty,” Emma says offering Regina her hand in a mock curtsy.

 

The decision to allow Snow and Charming to run a de-facto monarchy on their behalf while Regina was to be reappointed to the mayoral seat hadn't been a difficult one in the end, nor had the decision to stay put in Storybrooke.

 

While the power of their magic had brought a dull sense of peace to the inhabitants of the town, Emma had pointed out that subjugation was one thing, but having a slightly more popular face to their monarchy might be more beneficial to the happiness and general attitude of their subjects.

 

“Does this ever feel as though it's all too good to be true?” she says to Emma suddenly. “I've spent my entire life waiting to fight and I can't help but feel as though this has all been too easy.”

 

“Too easy?” Emma scoffs. “Have you forgotten the misery that we have all been through to get here?”

 

“We've both fought tooth and nail our whole lives to earn this Regina, now let's go and be disgustingly happy with our friends and tell them all we got secretly married at the court house last week, huh?”

 

Taking a deep breath she links her fingers with Emma's and follows her down the stairs, past Snow’s disapproving scowl onto the terrace in the back garden.

 

The linen covering the long tables lining the backyard in a makeshift square flutters gracefully in the light breeze framing the scene before her.

 

Looking out over the faces of those assembled, mostly dignitaries and nobles from their land, she can see Abigail and Frederick beaming at her, she can see Red holding hands shyly with Belle, behind them Doctor Hopper and Pongo. She can see the Dwarves assembled waiting for Snow and Charming to take their places at the head of their company, and she can see Henry, smiling widely at her, looking dashing and handsome in his shirt and tie.

 

For a second she falters, and wants to pinch herself to make sure this is all truly happening and not some trick or illusion. Emma must sense her distress because before she knows it a cool glass of champagne is being folded into her right hand, and she feels Emma slide her arm around her lower back, fitting perfectly into Regina's left side.

 

She feels Charming move beside Emma then, and his voice rings out strong and clear over the crowd assembled before them as he bows at his daughters side.

 

“All hail the Queens.”

 

 


End file.
